"Along the Golden Streets, a stranger walks tonight,
With wonder in his heart, Faith blossomed into sight,
He walks and stops and stares, and walks and stops again,
Vistas of loveliness, beyond the dreams of men.
He who was feeble, weak, and shackled to his bed
Now climbs eternal hills with light and easy tread
He has escaped at last the cruel clutch of pain;
His lips shall never taste its bitter cup again.
Oh! Never call him dead, this buoyant one and free,
Whose daily portion is delight and ecstasy!
He bows in speechless joy before the feet of HIM
Whom seeing not, he loved, while yet his sight was dim.
Along the Golden Streets, no stranger walks today,
But one who, long homesick, is "Home" at last to stay.
-Author Unknown-
With acknowledgment to "Triumphs of Faith," Oakland.
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