Thou hope of the forlorn, for which they pray,
Thou consolation nothing can destroy!
Comfort thou givest to the heart in grief,
And blessed promise, pointing to the goal;
Thy voice is music, bringing sweet relief
To Night's pale mourners—to the suffering soul;
The lovely air is fragrant with thy breath;
Glad music greets our ear on every side,
For plants and trees awake from sleep like death,
And every hill, and vale, and forest wide,