The Valley of Rest.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 913, 30 August 1889, Page 4

The Valley of Rest.

. BY KATE CROSBY. You speak of that ‘ valley of rest,’ That wonderful land so fair, That beauteous vale of the blest Where hearts have no trouble nor care ; That country of fadeless bloom, Which lie 3 o’er the river so dark, That river of blackness and gloom, Whose waves no ships ever mark, Whose fathomless depths you pass o’er, Whose turbulent waves you must breast, Ere you come to that beautiful shore, Ere you enter that valley of rest. You tell me all this and much more, In words of melodious tone ; Yet in reaching that beautiful shore, Must I pass through the river alone? Must I feel the cold waves o’er me creep? Must I battle with horrors unguesaed ; Will no one, my hand in gentle clasp keep, ’Till I stand in the vale of the blest ? Will no tender roico bid me gaze through the mist, Beyond the black waters, which cover my, breast ? No, arm strong and lov’ng, I cannot lesiat, Help me upward and on, to the valley of rest ? Oh ! I cannot believe it, I icill not indeed, The terror’s too great; the river’s too wide,

The water’s too high, too great is the need Of some one to help me gain the bright side. There is Que who has felt the horrors of death, Standing helpful and true, by yonr side evermore. He watches you breathing your tremulous breath, Ere you step in that river, which you must pass o’er, He sees through the blackness, and gloom, and the mist, He sees the bright light from the land of the blest, Thank God ! the dark waters His arm ne’er resist, And we stand safe with Him in that valley of rest.