Soon thou hast left a weary vale of tears.
Yes; thou hast left a world of care and toil,
Where storms and tempests o’er our pathway rise,
Calmly to sleep beneath the verdant soil,
Till called triumphant to the upper skies.
Then rest thee, brother, free from all thy pain,
Above thee bloom the rose and violet fair.
We would not wish thee back to earth again,
But let thee calmly, sweetly, slumber there.