To realms of endless light and glory.
That vision of a clime so rare,
Brought out this thought anew to grieve her,
E’en for a home so wondrous fair,
Could one who loved her well thus leave her?
We strove in vain to lull her fears;
We sought in vain such doubts to smother,
More wildly came those bitter tears,
And this sad wailing—“Mother! mother!”
It ceased at length—those weary eyes