I hear your lessening voices as they go;

Have ye no sign, no solace to fling back

To those who toil below?

"Oh! from that land of love,

Look ye not sometimes on this world of wo?

Think ye not, dear ones, in brighter bowers above,

Of those you left below?

"Surely ye note us here,

Though not as we appear to mortal view,

And can we still, with all our stains, be dear