VALE.
113
Will any be so sweet as this:
That when the soul,—divinely shaken
By that first throbbing pulse of bliss
Which bids its slumbering sense awaken,—
That when the soul,—divinely shaken
By that first throbbing pulse of bliss
Which bids its slumbering sense awaken,—
Shall turn to meet its God at last,
In that "All hail!" so sweet and tender?
Farewell shall evermore be cast
From heaven's eternal light and splendor!
In that "All hail!" so sweet and tender?
Farewell shall evermore be cast
From heaven's eternal light and splendor!
Nor, through all time, shall parting rend,
Or grief bemoan, or loss dissever,
But fair lost hope and fair lost friend
Once more our own, be ours forever!
Or grief bemoan, or loss dissever,
But fair lost hope and fair lost friend
Once more our own, be ours forever!
