Charles Spurgeon on life “here” vs. what life will be like “there”:
Here, my best joys bear “mortal” on their brow;
My fair flowers fade;
my dainty cups are drained to dregs;
my sweetest birds fall before Death’s arrows;
my most pleasant days are shadowed into nights;
and the flood tides of my bliss subside into ebbs of sorrow.
“But there,” he writes, “everything is immortal”:
The harp remains in tune,
the crown unfading,
the eye undimmed,
the voice unfaltering,
the heart unwavering;
and the immortal being is wholly absorbed in infinite delight.
Source: Morning, January 18
HT: Steve McCoy