The gracious God will call thee home,
And then, increased a hundredfold,
Thou proudly hand Him back His gold,
My best one, my blest one!
II.
A word went over the many miles
Of the well-tilled land where the Tiffin smiles,
And sought no youthful ear in vain:
"There's a wedding a-coming off at Lane!"
They stood in the shade of the western door—