Let The Saints Be Glad In Heaven
by Achsa White Sprague
Ah! let the saints be glad in Heaven,
And let them glory see;
But I will have still longer life
Ere I'll an angel be.
I care not for the heaven above,
I'll make a heaven below;
I'd rather walk an angel here,
Than all the angels know.
I shall not see the face of God,
If I should enter heaven;
So I will stay, and be like God,
And give the gifts He's given.
Then let the saints be glad in heaven!
And I'm rejoicing too;
If they are good and glorious there,
I'll be while here as true.
I care not for the golden harps,
I care not for the crown;
I'd rather scatter kingdoms here,
And put the tyrants down.
And if in white robes they may live,
And silver sandals wear,
And walk the streets all paved with gold,
And breathe a purer air;
I'd rather wear the garb of man,
And seek the lonely street,
Where I the child of poverty
And wretchedness may meet.
I'd rather have a step that brings
A joy at every tread,
Than all the silver sandals worn
By saints to earth long dead.
Then bring me life, an earthly life!
And let me live it true,
Before, O blessed saints in Heaven!
I come to join with you.
Source:The Poet And Other Poems.
Boston: William White And Co.,
158 Washington Street.