No need to force my weeping friends away;
No painful gaspings for the thick’ning breath;
No sorrow—no sad tears—no pain—no death!
O, these shall not be there! for life’s sad day
And gloomy night, shall all have “pass’d away!”
There in my own, my dear, eternal home,
No baleful sickly blights may ever come;
My soul shall flourish in immortal bloom,
While lies my body mould’ring in the tomb;
And this poor clay shall yet in beauty rise,