Two roads to me a pleasure are,
On each I'm often found;
One upward is, where Christ doth sit-
Most surely, "Holy ground."

That priestly place, through Christ's own blood,
Though closed indeed to sight,
I often enter in by faith,
And name you with delight.

This, surely, is a meeting place
Which love divine hath given,
The present portion, joy and home
Of every heir of heaven.

The other road my spirit takes
Is straight across the sea,
And greeting you with cordial love,
Companion fain would be

To drink those draughts of water, clear
As crystal from the throne,
Which you so often give to me
Though stranger to your home.

Blest prospect, shining through the night
Of all this pilgrim way,
That God's great joy is us to bring
To His eternal day.

And there, decked with immortal robes,
Like His own Son to be,
We'll sing His everlasting praise
Who once died on the tree! James Forbes

April, 1916

(Found among the papers left by our beloved P. J. L.)