<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=390412" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Hope For Heaven</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grey church sits lonely on the hill, <br>Awaiting its next Sunday thrill.<br>Voices rising up to the spire, <br>Kept in tune by the local choir.<br>Regulars that every week, <br>Enter the door the Lord to seek.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Its rural town’s a busy place, <br>Harbouring a mixed human race.<br>On the seventh day most sleep late, <br>Don’t venture through the old lychgate.<br>They think about the open shops <br>And whether lunch requires pork chops.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The bells ring out, the faithful meet, <br>For some it is their only treat.<br>They catch up on the parish news, <br>And who will this week, clean the pews.<br>Then wander home their minds refreshed, <br>By words spoken when they were blessed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grey church that stands through passing time, <br>Listening to its own clock chime.<br>Could tell a million happenings, <br>Of centuries of natterings.<br>All the souls who have passed away, <br>Laid to their rest, and there to stay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Such peace surrounds this house of God, <br>So many feet this path have trod.<br>But it remains steadfast and true, <br>All the inclement weather through.<br>Solitude for the broken heart, <br>Hope for heaven when all depart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ernestine+Northover">Ernestine Northover</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=390412" data-title="Hope For Heaven de Ernestine Northover" data-description="Grey church sits lonely on the hill, Awaiting its next Sunday thrill. Voices rising up to the spire, Kept in tune by the local choir. Regulars that every week, Enter the door the Lord to seek. Its rural town’s a busy place, Harbouring a mix..."></div> </div> </div>

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