34
IN OUR BOAT.
Only to me, my love, only to me.
This cavern underneath the moaning sea;
This long, long life that I alone must tread,
To whom the living seem most like the dead,—
Thou wilt be safe out on the happy shore:
He who in God lives, liveth evermore.
This cavern underneath the moaning sea;
This long, long life that I alone must tread,
To whom the living seem most like the dead,—
Thou wilt be safe out on the happy shore:
He who in God lives, liveth evermore.
IN OUR BOAT.
TARS trembling o'er us and sunset before us, Mountains in shadow and forests asleep;
Down the dim river we float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not,—there 's peace on the deep.
Come not, pale Sorrow, flee till to-morrow,
Rest softly falling o'er eyelids that weep;
While down the river we float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not,—there 's peace on the deep.
Rest softly falling o'er eyelids that weep;
While down the river we float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not,—there 's peace on the deep.
As the waves cover the depths we glide over,
So let the past in forgetfulness sleep,
So let the past in forgetfulness sleep,
