They’ll come no more—they’ll come no more!
They’ll come no more, oh, sister mine,
Those sunny hours that we have known,
But shall we murmur, or repine,
So many blessings still our own?
True, clouds have gathered on our way,
Deep shadows round about us lie,
But waiting for a brighter day,
Upward we’ll look with steadfast eye;
And as we linger round the tomb