To the Unbeliever

After the joys of earth,
After its song of mirth
After its hour of light,
After its dream so bright,
   What then?
Only an empty name,
Only a weary frame,
Only a conscience smart,
Only an aching heart.

After this empty name
After this weary frame,
After this conscience smart
After this aching heart,
   What then?
Only a sad farewell
To a world loved too well
Only a silent bed
With the forgotten dead.

After this sad farewell
To a world loved too well,
After this silent bed
With the forgotten dead—
   What then?
Oh, then the judgment throne!
Oh, then the last hope gone!
Then, all the woes that dwell
In an eternal hell!

To the Believer

After the Christian tears
After his fights and fears,
After his weary cross,
"All things below but loss,"
   What then?
Oh, then—a holy calm,
Resting on Jesus' arm,
Oh, then a deeper love,
For the pure home above.

After this holy calm,
This rest on Jesus' arm,
After this deepened love,
From the pure home above,
   What then?
Oh, then—work for Him,
Perishing souls to win
Then Jesus' presence near,
Death's darkest hour to cheer.

And when the work is done,
When the last soul is won,
When Jesus' love and power,
Brings the expected hour,
   What then?
Oh, the crown is given!
Oh, the rest in heaven!
Endless life, in endless day,
Sin and sorrow passed away.