 | [Funeral of the young, in] The ladies' wreath |  |
FUNERAL OF THE YOUNG.
Go from thy father's door,—
Fair friend, who oft hast play'd
Delighted round the cheerful hearth
And 'neath the garden-shade,—
Fair friend, who oft hast play'd
Delighted round the cheerful hearth
And 'neath the garden-shade,—
Go from thy mother's side,—
Thou, who in nursery dear
Didst nightly draw her warbled hymn
Into thine infant ear,—
Thou, who in nursery dear
Didst nightly draw her warbled hymn
Into thine infant ear,—
Go from thy sisters sweet,—
Though the deep wail of grief
Is bursting from their stricken hearts
Refusing all relief,—
Though the deep wail of grief
Is bursting from their stricken hearts
Refusing all relief,—
Go from thy brother's arms,—
Not with fleet step of cheer,—
But softly laid by mournful hands
Upon the sable bier.
Not with fleet step of cheer,—
But softly laid by mournful hands
Upon the sable bier.
“Come to our white rob'd band,”
The hovering angels sing,—
We have a treasur'd harp for thee.
That knows no jarring string,—
The hovering angels sing,—
We have a treasur'd harp for thee.
That knows no jarring string,—
“Come to our fond embrace,”
Those kindred spirits cry,
Who shar'd thy love, and earlier took
The journey of the sky,—
Those kindred spirits cry,
Who shar'd thy love, and earlier took
The journey of the sky,—
“Come to the pierced side,”
Deep tones His greeting bore,
Who once was crucified and slain,
But liveth evermore
Deep tones His greeting bore,
Who once was crucified and slain,
But liveth evermore
Oh! blessed lot to leave
This world's unresting strife,—
And find such welcome on the shores
Of everlasting life.
This world's unresting strife,—
And find such welcome on the shores
Of everlasting life.
| [Funeral of the young, in] The ladies' wreath | |