Hearts to which this heart must cleave,
From which parting it must grieve!“
“Or shall life’s best ties be o’er,
And all loved ones gone before
To that other happier shore?”
“Shall I gently fall on sleep—
Death, like slumber, o’er me creep,
Like a slumber sweet and deep?”
“Or the soul long strive in vain
To escape, with toil and pain,