  Transformed, redeemed from all that dwarfs or blights, In perfect harmony with beauteous sights Beyond imagination's highest flights Ere reached by seer, We shall together walk the golden streets Sometime, my dear. But how, you ask, shall we each other know, So changed from what we were while here below, When, caged like birds, we longed and suffered so? Ah, do not fear. Its own, my dear? It may not be at once or soon, 'tis true. For you may be among the blessed few Who'll sooner reach the blissful heights—your due For pure life here— But sometime, sure as God is love and truth, We'll meet, my dear. Some precious, long-forgotten look or word Breathed through the softest, sweetest music heard, Or some vibration rare of soul depths stirred By memory's tear, Will, like a flash of light, reveal our souls Together, dear, To live the fuller life we've dreamed of here. |
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