No serpent crawls along that pavement!

(Henry Law, "The Gospel in Numbers" 1858)

Heaven!  It is . . .
  our looked for rest;
  the goal to which we press;
  the haven of our storm tossed voyage;
  the end of weary pilgrimage;
  the soul's eternal home;
  the land of every delight!

Heaven! Here . . .
  thought flags;
  mind fails;
  all words seem emptiness;
  all images fall short.

No angel's tongue can adequately paint
the brightness of those realms. Mortal
powers shrink into very nothingness.
None can describe heaven, but those
who enter it. And those who enter it,
find their delight . . .
  an ever swelling flood;
  an ever brightening day;
  an ever opening flower;
  a volume, which eternity cannot read through!

Heaven! It is the palace of the great Eternal.

Salvation is its walls; its gates are praise.

Its pavement is purity's most golden luster.

Its atmosphere is perfect love.

Heaven! It is the home prepared by God before
the worlds were made, for His redeemed children.
It is the mansion, which the ascended Jesus still
labors to make fit.

Heaven! It is so attractive, that all Jehovah's
skill cannot increase the beauty. It is so full,
that nothing can be added. It is so rich, that
it can hold no more.

Perfection is the essence of our heaven.
Nothing can enter there . . .
  to stain,
  to soil,
  to vex,
  to humble.

Oh! what a contrast to our present state!

Our hearts are daily pierced.

We loathe and we abhor ourselves.

We would be holy; but, alas! a treacherous
adversary rolls us in the mire. The foul tempter
all day long is spreading nets. There is no saint
too saintly for his vile approach. But in heaven
this misery has ceased. No serpent crawls
along that pavement!
Satan is outside; far
off; the bottomless pit has shut its mouth
upon him.

Our high home is barricaded against all sin.

Never, never, never, can iniquity again intrude.

The soul forever joys; righteous, as
God is righteous; pure, as God is pure.

Reader, seek heaven.




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