She was asked to sing "something about heaven;" and she began at once, as though it had been selected by some invisible agency and impressed upon her mind, with the beautiful hymn:—
"There's a home for the poor on that beautiful shore
When life and its sorrows are ended;
And sweetly they'll rest in that home of the blest,
By the presence of angels attended.
There's a home for the sad, and their hearts will be glad
When they've crossed over Jordan so dreary;
For bright is the dome of that radiant home
Where so softly repose all the weary."
The "home for the poor on that beautiful shore" seemed to be almost in sight of the singer, for the pale, dying girl spread heaven around her; and Fanny sang as she had never sung before. She could hardly keep down the tears which struggled for birth in her dim eyes, and her sweet voice was attuned to the sentiment of the words she sang, which were wedded to a melody so touching as to suggest the heaven it spoke of.