Oh, we long for a glimpse of the still white heights,
Where Love alone doth reign;
Where good, as a law, gives man his rights,
And sorrow hath ceased, and pain.
And desire is rife to remain thereon.
Where naught but the good we may know;
While the surge of sin, and the seethe of pain
Are unheard in the valley below.
The Master sighed, too, with the same refrain
As he entered the darkened vale
Of sickness and sorrow, and tenderly touched
Men's woe with its anguished wail.
But he meekly and patiently finished his task,
And he proved, ere his labor was done,
That heaven is real, and here, and now,
And Father and man are at-one.
Then courage, dear heart, every trial 's a step
Toward the permanent mount of the blest,
When the valley of sorrow exalted shall be,
And the earth become heaven, and rest.
