 | Morning Glories : |  |
WHEN WE ARE DEAD.
O, the good things said of us when we are dead,
If only while we live that they were said;
Many a heart were spared a sigh,
Joy would lighten many an eye,
Where sorrow's weight we often bear instead.
If only while we live that they were said;
Many a heart were spared a sigh,
Joy would lighten many an eye,
Where sorrow's weight we often bear instead.
We approach the couch of death with quiet dread,
With tender tone and very softest tread;
As if we feared the slumberer to disturb,
We speak with only kindly eyes and word.
With tender tone and very softest tread;
As if we feared the slumberer to disturb,
We speak with only kindly eyes and word.
The dead are sightless, and the lips are dumb,
And dull the hearing, never more shall come,
The pang by us inspired of weary pain,
Into that pulseless bosom ever again.
And dull the hearing, never more shall come,
The pang by us inspired of weary pain,
Into that pulseless bosom ever again.
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But could we rouse again to life that clay,
Which once we loved, but now so senseless lay;
No act or speech, or look should e'er offend
Our dear departed relative or friend.
Which once we loved, but now so senseless lay;
No act or speech, or look should e'er offend
Our dear departed relative or friend.
And so through life we heavy-hearted go,
Within our heart a chamber filled with woe,
Then let us turn from those who've passed away,
Unto the living whom we meet each day.
Within our heart a chamber filled with woe,
Then let us turn from those who've passed away,
Unto the living whom we meet each day.
The dead are dead, they neither feel nor hear,
Let tender words fall on an ear
Who knows how much of comfort it will impart,
A kind word falling on a troubled heart.
Let tender words fall on an ear
Who knows how much of comfort it will impart,
A kind word falling on a troubled heart.
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