Will there be no flowers in heaven,
No soul-like blossoms there
In the land of the pure and lovely
In the home of the good and fair;
Where all that is best and brightest
In matchless splendor shall shine
And night cannot lend one shadow
To darken the courts divine? Will there be no flowers in heaven,
Where the streets are paved with gold
Where a moment reveals more glory
Than the ages of earth unfold;
Where the light is all too dazzling
For earth-born eyes to view,
Where harps are thrilling such music
As this world never knew? Will there be no flowers in heaven?
No flowers by the river's side?
No lilies to bathe their pearly crowns
In the spray of the crystal tide?
No violets to lend their fragrance
To perfume the balmy air,
No roses to cling to the jasper walls
And vie with the jewels there? Will there be no flowers in heaven?
Would not heaven be incomplete
With no wreaths of immortal freshness
To cast at the Saviour's feet;
With no sprays of living beauty
To droop o'er the streets of gold,
With no gardens to blossom forever
Untouched by earth's blight and mold? Ah! There will be flowers in heaven
In those realms of immortal bloom,
But never as here shall they wither
On a desolate, darkened tomb;
We know not their forms or their fragrance,
We know not their changeless years
But we know they shall outshine the blossoms
That gladden this vale of tears. Our beautiful earth-born blossoms!
Can imagination weave?
Can mind in its silent chambers
One missing charm conceive,
That lost in their earthly glory
Might spring from a holier sod
And sprinkle with sweeter incense
The glorious courts of God? No; to our limited vision
They are fair as a seraph's song,
One of the relics of Eden
That still to our earth belong.
We love them, oh, who would chide us
For loving the few bright things
That have not grown tired of our cold bleak world
And flown on their soul-like wings! Beautiful flowers of heaven!
They shall bloom in immortal youth,
Holding within their spotless cups
The bright dew-pearls of truth;
Wafting from out their petals fair
The holy innocence of love,
Made lovelier for the adorning
Of the glittering courts above. Never, never, to wither,
Never to fade or blight,
Nevermore to droop in sadness
In a land of cloud and night;
Bathed in eternal sunshine,
Nurtured in heavenly soil,
They shall bloom through unmeasured ages
Where frost cannot come to spoil.