Kingdom Come

I do not believe the sad story
Of ages of sleep in the tomb;
I shall pass far away to the glory
And grandeur of Kingdom Come.
The paleness of death, and its stillness,
May rest on my brow for awhile;
And my spirit may lose in its chillness
The splendour of hope's happy smile;
But the gloom of the grave will be transient,
And light as the slumbers of worth;
And then I shall blend with the ancient
And beautiful forms of the earth.
Through the climes of the sky, and the bowers
Of bliss, evermore I shall roam,
Wearing crowns of the stars and the flowers
That glitter in Kingdom Come.
The friends who have parted before me
From life's gloomy passion and pain,
When the shadow of death passes o'er me
Will smile on me fondly again.
Their voices are lost in the soundless
Retreats of their endless home,
But soon we shall meet in the boundless
Effulgence of Kingdom Come.