GEN. ALVIN P. HOVEY.

We shall meet, but we shall miss him;
There will be one vacant chair;
We shall linger to caress him
While we breathe our evening prayer.
When, a year ago, we gathered
Joy was in his mild blue eye;
But a golden cord is severed,
And our hopes in ruin lie.
Chorus.
We shall meet, but we shall miss him;
There will be one vacant chair;
We shall linger to caress him
When we breathe our evening prayer.

At our fireside, sad and lonely,
Often will the bosom swell
At remembrance of the story
How our noble Willie fell;
How he strove to bear our banner
Through the thickest of the fight,
And upheld our country’s honor
In the strength of manhood’s might.—Chorus.

True, they tell us wreaths of glory
Evermore will deck his brow;
But this soothes the anguish only
Sweeping o’er our heart strings now.
Sleep, today, O early fallen!
In thy green and narrow bed;
Dirges from the pine and cypress
Mingle with the tears we shed.—Chorus.

GEN. NATHAN KIMBALL.

NEARER, MY GOD, TO THEE.

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Key of G.