PASSED ON.
61
The song-bird tunes its lay
Beside the cottage door,
Then soaring far away,
Its form is seen no more;
Safe in a peaceful nest
It finds a welcome rest—
Hope dawned when they appeared,
For thus they sung and cheered;
They have passed on—
Our holy dead.
Beside the cottage door,
Then soaring far away,
Its form is seen no more;
Safe in a peaceful nest
It finds a welcome rest—
Hope dawned when they appeared,
For thus they sung and cheered;
They have passed on—
Our holy dead.
The blue and sparkling wave
Doth gently kiss the strand,
Then distant shores to lave
It hasteth from the land;
A blessing to bestow
Thus onward did they go;
Now, like that wavelet bright,
They shine in heaven's own light;
They have passed on—
Our holy dead.
Doth gently kiss the strand,
Then distant shores to lave
It hasteth from the land;
A blessing to bestow
Thus onward did they go;
Now, like that wavelet bright,
They shine in heaven's own light;
They have passed on—
Our holy dead.
The grain to the scythe doth yield,
Or the sower had lost his toil;
No sigh is heard when it quits the field
At his will, the lord of the soil.
The reaper's shout was loud,
When they to his sickle bowed;
Or the sower had lost his toil;
No sigh is heard when it quits the field
At his will, the lord of the soil.
The reaper's shout was loud,
When they to his sickle bowed;