List! ‘Tis the morning hours in glory.
A shadow through the mists doth now appear,
A troop of angels sweeping down in greeting.
A “welcome home” rings out with joyous cheer.
A traveler from the earth is now arriving,
A mighty welcome’s ringing in the skies.
The trumpets of a host are now resounding
A welcome to the life that never dies.
Who is the victor whom the angels welcome?
What mighty deeds of valor have been done?
What is the meaning of these shouts of triumph?
Why welcome this soul as a mighty one?
She is but a woman, frail and slight and tender,
No special mark of dignity she bears.
Only the Christ-light from her face doth glisten,
Only the white robe of a saint she wears.
She is but a soul redeemed by the blood of Jesus,
Hers but a life of sacrifice and care.
Yet with her welcome all the heaven is ringing,
And on her brow a victor’s crown she bears.
How come she thus from sin’s benighted thralldom,
The grace and purity of heaven to obtain?
Only through Him who gave His life a ransom,
Cleansing the soul from every spot and stain.
See! As you gaze upon her face so radiant,
‘Tis but the beauty of her Lord you see.
Only the image of His life resplendent,
Only the mirror of His life is she.
See with what signs of joy they bear her onward,
How that the heavens ring with glad acclaim!
What is the shout they raise while soaring upward?
“Welcome! Thrice welcome thou in Jesus’ name!”
Rest in the mansion the Lord prepared thee
Out of loving deeds, which thou hast done,
Furnished by thoughts and acts that portrayed He
Unto a lost world as their Christ alone.
Hear how thy lovely harp is ringing.
Touched are its strings with hands unseen.
Note the music of thine own creating
Heaven’s melodies in hearts where sin has been.
See how the atmosphere with love is laden,
And that with brightness all the landscape gleams.
Know ‘tis the gladness and the joy of heaven
Shred now by rescued soul in radiant beams.
Oh, that here on earth we may learn the lesson
That Christ enthroned in our hearts while here.
It fits and prepares the soul for heaven,
Making us like Him both there and here.
Doing the simple and homely duties
Just as our Christ on the earth has done,
Seeking alone that the Christ’s own beauty
In every heart should be caused to bloom.
Showing all men that the blood of Jesus
Cleanses all hearts from all sin below,
And that the life of Christ within us
Transforms the soul till pure as snow.
When we thus come to the dark, cold river,
No night, no darkness, no death is there.
Only great joy that at last the Giver
Grants us anew of His life to share.
John G. Lake