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Charles Spurgeon on life “here” vs. what life will be like “there”:

Here, my best joys bear “mortal” on their brow;
My fair flowers fade;
my dainty cups are drained to dregs;
my sweetest birds fall before Death’s arrows;
my most pleasant days are shadowed into nights;
and the flood tides of my bliss subside into ebbs of sorrow.

“But there,” he writes, “everything is immortal”:

The harp remains in tune,
the crown unfading,
the eye undimmed,
the voice unfaltering,
the heart unwavering;
and the immortal being is wholly absorbed in infinite delight.

Source: Morning, January 18

HT: Steve McCoy

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