| 4745
And the voice of my darling, low & sweet
That I hear no more on earth.
5 She staid but a little while
In the garb that mortals wear,
And we never knew till we missed her smile
And the tender love that knew no guile,
That an angel had been there.
6 She was tired and needed rest
When her earthly task was done
And the folded robe on her gentle breast
Trembles no more with her heart's unrest
Since the crown of life is won.
7 She sleeps, with the bright brown hair
Shading her pale, pure brow
And her face has a meek, forgetful air,
Like that of a saint absorbed in prayer,
From life & its interests now.
8 A cloud came over her May,
With a shadow cold & black,
And her beautiful spirit stole away
To a fairer land, a brighter day
& I would not call her back. | 4745
And the voice of my darling, low & sweet
That I hear no more on earth.
5 She staid but a little while
In the garb that mortals wear,
And we never knew till we missed her smile
And the tender love that knew no guile,
That an angel had been there.
6 She was tired and needed rest
When her earthly task was done
And the folded robe on her gentle breast
Trembles no more with her heart's unrest
Since the crown of life is won.
7 She sleeps, with the bright brown hair
Shading her pale, pure brow
And her face has a meek, forgetful air,
Like that of a saint absorbed in prayer,
From life & its interests now.
8 A cloud came over her May,
With a shadow cold & black,
And her beautiful spirit stole away
To a fairer land, a brighter day
& I would not call her back. |
EN