Classic Poem

No night, no night! O blessed dawn,
When this frail body shall put on
Immortal robes and bright renown,
And with God's ransomed ones sit down!

No night of sorrow! I shall be
From every grief forever free;
For God's own hand, with gentle sway,
Shall wipe my latest tear away.

No night of trial! Here below,
What thorns amid my roses grow!
But there, the flowers of my delight
Shall know no thorn, shall fear no blight.

No night of sin! Thrice blessed day!
How often here I go astray!
But when I reach that heavenly shore
I shall be safe, and sin no more.

No night of sickness! Here in pain
How oft I sink, then rise again;
But there, the tree of healing grows,
An antidote for all my woes.

No night of death! O cherished few
Whose hearts on earth to mine are true!
There we shall meet, and, meeting, be
From change and death forever free.

No night of tempest! Storms arise
And overcast these earthly skies;
There, all shall be serenely bright,
Nor tempests blow, nor storms affright.

No night of trouble, want or care,
No night of sadness or despair;
No night, no night, but there alway
Calm, bright, serene, celestial day!

No night, no night! O blessed clime!
Fain would I leap this shoal of time,
And rest with all the ransomed band,
Within that bright, that happy land!