Classic Poem

Some say that we hope for our Heaven in vain,
The dream will prove false, not a shadow remain.
And yet I keep hoping a time may come, too,
When Earth shall be dream and Heaven be true.

We talk very wise as we play with Time's toys.
Ah, Father, forgive us, poor ignorant boys!
Believing in nothing unfelt or unseen,
With wonders all round of which we little ween.

Sometimes, tired of toiling, we bind up our wounds,
Grow weary of muck-rakes, and sick of earth's sounds,
And gaze where the stars in the blue heavens glow,
And say, Shall we ever from there look below?

O Earth, thou art fair, but thou art not complete,
I have dreamed of a country more beautiful, sweet;
And cannot help thinking of how it will feel
When this shall be dream and that shall be real.