Sun-Bright Clime.

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P. M.

1. Have you heard? Have you heard of the sun-bright clime?
Undimmed by sorrow, unhurt by time?
Where age has no power o'er the fadeless frame,
Where the eye is fire, and the heart is flame?
A river of water's flowing there,
'Mid flowers of beauty strangely fair,
And a thousand forms are hovering o'er
The golden stream on the happy shore;
O, that beautiful clime! O, that beautiful clime!

2. A million of forms all clothed in white,
In garments of beauty clear and bright;
They dwell in their own immortal bowers,
'Mid fadeless hues of countless flowers;
But far away in that sinless clime,
Undimmed by sorrow, unstained by crime.
Where, 'mid all things that are fair, is given,
The home of the just, and its name is heaven,
O, that beautiful home! O, that beautiful home!