Our friend that loved us, he was gone to rest!
“We buried him where he was wont to pray,
By the calm lake, e’en here, at eventide;
We rear’d this cross in token where he lay,
For on the cross, he said, his Lord had died!
Now hath he surely reach’d, o’er mount and wave,
That flowery land whose green turf hides no grave.
“But I am sad! I mourn the clear light taken
Back from my people, o’er whose place it shone,
The pathway to the better shore forsaken,