From want and wo and deadly strife,
From wrong, and weariness of life,
Hast found serene repose.
Boy tired! Those words of parting pain
Thou never more wilt breathe again,
Nor lift the moaning cry,
For naught to wound or vex, or cloy,
Invades the cherub home of joy,
No shade obscures the sky.
O, mother! When above ye meet,