When thou art near, with gladdest grace
My heart is held in fond embrace,
For laughing lips with raptures bless
The toils and tears of my distress,
And woes within me have no place.
The halting hours with hurried pace
Whirl wildly on through happy space,
And life is light with happiness,
When thou art near.
Like mortals whom an angel race
Renews with gladness face to face,
I thrill with Love's unseen caress
That holy hands upon me press,
And Heaven's pleasures all I trace,
When thou art near.
HE SLEEPS AT LAST.
He sleeps at last! The vales of rest
Are waiting for the war-worn breast,
And glorious angels fondly spread
The sweetest roses for his bed.
While countless millions call him blest.
Fame welcomes him with glad behest,
While garlands on his brow are pressed,
And laurels cluster o'er his head;
He sleeps at last.
O, deep the sorrows here confessed,
Where Freedom makes eternal quest!
The wondrous chief that proudly led
The long, blue lines that fought and bled,
In peace is now no more distressed;
He sleeps at last!
WHEN FORTUNES FROWN.
When fortunes frown, the woes, bedight
With brooding shadows, bring the night,
While dismal sorrows darkness dole,
And disappointments rise and roll
Above the longings for the light.
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