Solitude Sweetened

by James Meikle, 1730-1799

The approaching happiness of the saints

To escape my present sorrow, and triumph in the midst of my present grief, let me suppose eternity is at hand, which may very soon, but must before long—be the case. May I not, then, with the eye of all-triumphant faith, think I see myself walking in white with my well-beloved, along the fields of glory, and my whole soul going out to him in a manner it never could here below! While floods of glory from his reconciled face overflow me, and the smile of his lovely countenance entrances my soul forever! While I join the hosannas of the higher house, the eternal hallelujahs, and begin the song which none can learn but the chosen number—the sealed ones! With what transport do I mingle with the heavenly multitudes, and, to my extreme comfort, realize that there is not one sinner in the heavenly company, or anything expressed against the majesty of the Most High! Where all the heavenly multitudes, transforming in his beams, kindling in his flames, and drinking at his ecstatic rivers—are happy beyond conception!

Such is the felicity the saints shall enter into; yes, and in a manner, have entered into already! So short is the interval between now and then, this present and that future state, that their glory is as it were begun. Faith and hope entering like an anchor within the veil, the saints of God rise at one step from this valley of tears, to the hill of God, to the mount of communion.

Now, why should the noise of the rabble, or uproar in the street, trouble me, when I am entering the very door of my everlasting habitation, and shall soon be eternally out of the reach of their confusion and murmurs? Henceforth, let the near prospect of that eternal triumph—blunt my present grief, scatter my troubles, and spread serenity in my bosom!