Father, cheer the grieving parents;
Help them now to bear the woe;
Pity us, thy simple children,
In this land so far below.
Angels carried her to heaven,
Clothed her in their robes of light;
She is gone, but not forever,
From the loving parents’ sight.
Little Ada now has gone
To that land above,
Where no trouble ever comes,
All is brightness, all is love.
A DREAM.
On the summit of a mountain
Stood I in the twilight gray,
There were many standing with me
In the closing light of day.
Two paths led out from the summit—
One to lands so clear and bright,
And the other to a dark land
Where reigned eternal night.
Many chose the road to darkness—
Pathway leading down to hell;
Few there were that took the other—
They that chose it, chose it well.
’Twas a dream I dreamed in slumber,
But ’tis real every day;
Many take the downward path,
Few that go the brighter way.