Classic Poem

I LOVE yon pale blue sky; it is the floor
Of that glad home where I shall shortly be;
A home from which I shall go out no more;
From toil and grief and vanity set free.

I gaze upon yon everlasting arch,
Up which the bright stars wander, as they shine;
And as I mark them in their nightly march,
I think how soon that journey shall be mine!

Yon silver drift of silent cloud, far up
In the still heaven — through you my pathway lies;
Yon rugged mountain-peak — how soon your top
Shall I behold beneath me, as I rise!

Not many more of life's slow-pacing hours,
Shaded with sorrow's melancholy hue; —
Oh, what a glad ascending shall be ours,
Oh, what a pathway up yon starry blue!

A journey like Elijah's, swift and bright,
Caught gently upward to an early crown,
In heaven's own chariot of unblazing light,
With death untasted and the grave unknown.