I dream of a land where no thunder-cloud gathers,
Where across the calm waters no tempest may sweep
And where, while we chill in our bleak wintry weather,
The vales in perpetual Summer-time sleep. I dream of a city across whose bright portals
The sunbeams are rolling in waves of delight,
Where brightness and gladness and joy are immortal,
Where there is no darkness, no winter, no night. I dream of a meadow where lilies are growing
And fairer than Solomon's glory arrayed,
I dream of a garden where roses are glowing
And never a rose or a lily shall fade. I dream of a clime where the palm tree is waving
O'er rivers of crystal and pavements of gold,
And seraphs amid the bright waters are laving--
A realm more serene than the Eden of old. I dream of a song that is ever ascending
O, oft of that anthem of joy have I dreamed!
To Him who hath loved us be praises unending
To Him who from sin unto God hath redeemed. O Summer, bright Summer! My thoughts still are roaming
Through thy beautiful day that so lately was mine
And now in the gathering shades of thy gloaming
I dream of a Summer that knows no decline. 'Till yonder rude tempest of desolate seeming
Is melting before the more real unseen
And only the mystery wrought with my dreaming
Like a thin veil of gossamer lieth between.