Foreglory

It is the Phœnix of fore-glories Embers: Patience her wing, Heaven is her amount, [...]

And be it mine at close of life; / This rapture giv'n, / whate'er befell, / Of yesterdays unfilled with strife, — / This gleam of the Unlived to lend / Foreglory.

Flooding with fore-glory the pages of the Book they all point forward to one focal spot of splendor upon God's horizon of the end-time upon which all eyes are centered.