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Show THE GARDEN OF THE JUST BEYOND. BE-YOND. 'Tis strange that in this world of ours here heart - affections warm abound, Where blooms a plenitude of flowers, And happiness so oft is found, That some there are, where'er they go Have always felt the biting frost; The roses blow, 'tis true, but grow Where "Just Beyond," their frag-0 frag-0 ranee lost, Brings wafting of no sweet perfume To raise the drooping spirit lone. Though careless eyes may scan the bloom. The loving-hearted fain would own, And, cherishing, a joy would taste. As yet is granted few to share, Life proves for them a desert-waste Of hopeless longing ev'rywhere! O, Garden of the Just Beyond! How many hearts strong, true and fond, In silence wait. From dawn till late, Outside the Gate of Just Beyond? John Romaine. |