 | Morning Glories : |  |
127
GOOD BYE.
What word is there
That can compare,
In bitterness of tone,
When heart from heart,
Is forced to part,
From loving ones and home?
That can compare,
In bitterness of tone,
When heart from heart,
Is forced to part,
From loving ones and home?
Tears dim the eye,
How e'er we try,
With courage brave to meet,
The sad ordeal,
We keenly feel,
The words though sad, yet sweet.
How e'er we try,
With courage brave to meet,
The sad ordeal,
We keenly feel,
The words though sad, yet sweet.
Of fortune great,
Or fickle fate,
Children of destiny,
God knows the end,
Our ways portend,
To us a mystery.
Or fickle fate,
Children of destiny,
God knows the end,
Our ways portend,
To us a mystery.
If it might be
That we could see
The life that lies between,
Or what the fate
That doth await
Through days that intervene.
That we could see
The life that lies between,
Or what the fate
That doth await
Through days that intervene.
God wills it so,
We may not know,
No human power descry,
On sea or land,
Within his hand,
Our destiny must lie.
We may not know,
No human power descry,
On sea or land,
Within his hand,
Our destiny must lie.
Hope fills the breast,
And lulls to rest,
The burdened heart-felt sigh,
The mizpah be,
Twixt thee and me,
When we have said Good-Bye.
And lulls to rest,
128
The mizpah be,
Twixt thee and me,
When we have said Good-Bye.
| Morning Glories : | |