THE BEAUTIFUL LAND.

By THOMAS MAcKELLAR.
{"newspaper_name": "The Columbian fountain.", "edition": "01", "page": "p2", "byline": ""}
{"character_count": 922, "word_count": 161, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9097999930381775], "ccnet_perplexity": [1973.300048828125], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
There is land immortal,


The beautiful of lands
Beside the ancient portal


A sentry grimly stands.
He only can undo ii,
And open wide the door;
And mortals who pass through il,


Are mortals never more. 7
That glorious land is Heaven,


And Death the sentry grim;
The Lord therefore has given


The open keys to him.
And ransomed spirits signing


And sorrowful for Gin,
Do pass the gate in dying,


And freely enter in.
Though dark and drear the passage,
That leade,h TO the gate, ,g
Yet grace comes with the message,
To souls that watch and wait;
And at the time appointed,


A messenger comes down,
And leads the Lords annointed


From the Cross 10 glory's crown.
Their sighs are lost in singing,


They're blessed in their tears;
Their journey heavenward winging.


They leave to earth their fears.
Death like an angel seemeth--
"We welcome thee" they cry
Their face with glory beameth--


'Tis life for them to die.