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C. M.

Mrs. Miles.

Foretaste of Heaven.

When, on devotion’s seraph wing,

The spirit soars above,

And feels Thy presence, Father, Friend,

God of eternal love!

The joys of earth, how swift they fade

Before that living ray,

Which gives to the rapt soul a glimpse

Of pure and perfect day!

A gleam of Heaven’s own light, though now

Its brightness scarce appears

Through the pale shadows that are spread

Around our earthly years;

But Thine unclouded smile, O God!

Fills that all-glorious place,

Where we shall know as we are known,

And see Thee, face to face.

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