To escape my present sorrow, and triumph in the midst
of my present grief--let me suppose eternity is at hand,
which may very soon, but must before long, be the case.

May I not, then, with the eye of all-triumphant faith,
think I see myself walking in white with my well-beloved,
along the fields of glory, and my whole soul going out to
Him in a manner it never could here below! While floods
of glory from His reconciled face overflow me, and the
smile of His lovely countenance entrances my soul forever!
While I join the eternal hallelujahs, and begin the song
which none can learn but the chosen number--the sealed
ones! With what transport do I mingle with the heavenly
multitudes, and, to my extreme comfort, realize that
there is not one sinner in the heavenly company! Where
all the heavenly multitudes, transforming in His beams,
kindling in His flames, and drinking at His ecstatic rivers
--are happy beyond conception!

The near prospect of that eternal triumph should . . .
  blunt my present grief,
  scatter my troubles, and
  spread serenity in my bosom!