When shall this soul, so long borne down
By Fate's despite and with'ring frown,
A rescue know from care?
Friend! when that dark home is thine,
Never more thy heart shall pine—
Grim sorrow comes not there.
When thy name is of that number,
Sound and sweet will be thy slumber;—
All earthly pangs and troubles cease,
Nor dare invade that house of peace.