“But the end of all things is at hand:” – 1 Peter 4:7
Eternity! Eternity! Oh if
The soul could grasp the lengthening, lengthening,
Ever endless lengthening, lengthening of this,
The endless endless, never ending endless
Endlessness, as countless ages roll
In flaming waves, or glory’s tide,
O’er lost or ransomed soul,
If crippled wren with broken wing could start
On earth throughout this endless, endless,
Never ending endless day
To hobble from Pacific’s peaceful shore
To where Atlantic’s waves and traffic roar.
Taking the sunset route, the world to cross to fill
Its mission wide of bearing in its bill
One single grain of sand from where it first begun
Its weary, fluttering, wingless course to run.
Returning slow on each world wide circle trip,
If when of sands the western ocean’s shore it stripped
And cast them at Atlantic’s bosom wide.
It then reversed and bore to western tide
The double portion o’er the same long run –
Eternity, Eternity has just begun.”
– Matthew S. Allen