Oh, for a home of rest! Time lags alone so slow, so wearily; Couldst thou but smile on me, I should be blest. Alas, alas! that never more may be. Oh, for the sky-lark's wing to soar to thee! ...
And this man was "an infidel!" Ah, no! The tale's incredible it was not so. The untutored savage through the world may plod, Reckless of Heaven and ignorant of his God;...
Oh! say, shall those ties, now so sacred and dear, That with rainbow hues tint all our wanderings here, Be regarded no more in that heavenly sphere Whose portal's the grave? ...
Thou art come from the spirits' land, thou bird! Thou art come from the spirits' land: Through the dark pine grove let thy voice be heard, And tell of the shadowy band!
Why should "the little remnant mourn?" Though closed the house of prayer, An aged oak its shelter gave; And surely He was there, Who dwells in house not built with hands, Eternal in the skies;...
They have met, they have met! now their pinions unfurl In that city whose pavement is gold, Whose every gate is of one liquid pearl, And her beauty and glory untold; ...