65
ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.
And art thou gone, dear friend, for ever;
And has thy soul resign'd its form?
O yes, from thee I'm doom'd to sever,
For thee m y heart with grief is torn.
And has thy soul resign'd its form?
O yes, from thee I'm doom'd to sever,
For thee m y heart with grief is torn.
But one short pang, and thy pure spirit
Wing'd its bright way to realms above,
Where angels joyfully receiv'd it,
And welcom'd it with songs of love.
Wing'd its bright way to realms above,
Where angels joyfully receiv'd it,
And welcom'd it with songs of love.