God is near upon the ocean,
God is near upon the land;
He is All, both rest and motion--
We are only grains of sand,
Little mites upon life's billow,
May, flies buzzing out the hour,
Dreams upon a fevered pillow--
Dewdrops on a withered flower;
Only waiting for tomorrow--
That has never come to man,
Here we live in joy and sorrow,
Chasing phantoms as we can,
Chasing pleasure, chasing greatness,
Over tangled walks and waves;
But we learn the bitter lateness
Just before we find our graves.
Hope is nigh with fairy fingers,
Tracing sunbeams on the way;
Magic memory ever lingers,
Busy with the bygone day.
Life and death are but the portals
To a realm of endless rest;
God is working through his mortals;
All in some way shall be blessed!
