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L. M.

E. H. Chapin.

The Gate of Heaven.

Our Father God! not face to face

May mortal sense commune with Thee,

Nor lift the curtains of that place

Where dwells Thy secret Majesty.

Yet whereso’er our spirits bend

In rev’rent faith and humble prayer,

Thy promised blessing will descend,

And we shall find Thy spirit there.

Lord! be the spot where now we meet

An open gateway into heaven;

Here may we sit at Jesus’ feet,

And feel our deepest sins forgiven.

Here may desponding care look up;

And sorrow lay its burden down,

Or learn, of him, to drink the cup,

To bear the cross, and win the crown.

Here may the sick and wandering soul

To truth still blind, to sin a slave,

Find better than Bethesda’s pool,

Or than Siloam’s healing wave.


And may we learn, while here apart

From the world’s passion and its strife;

That Thy true shrine’s a loving heart,

And Thy best praise a holy life!

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