A silvery call to urge tired souls along,
A clear bell o’er the cope
Of the steep mountain they have had to climb
With such a patience, they have made sublime
The soul’s forlornest hope.
And when these dear ones hidden pass adown
“The other side,” beyond the mountain’s crown,
The silvery tinkling vein
Of gladness comes aback to touch us so—
New courage in our sinking heart doth grow,