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Is never known within thy peaceful home; And every care which here did cloud thy brow Is now forever banished from thy soul, And peace, eternal peace and godlike love, Will ever fill thy mind with raptures high. We may not mourn for thee, but for ourselves We well may weep in bitterness of soul, While thou art taken to the realms of light And clothest in robes of righteousness, we still Are struggling on, distressed with wants and care And doubts and fears; continually oppressed By the destroying , tempting power of sin. Often we're assailed, often led astray To grieve ourselves and grieve the Savior whom We love.

              Yet, but a few short years, will pass

And we, to, shall be called to leave this house Of clay, and join thee, who art gone before, In yonder heaven of eternal rest. Oh! might we know that this blest portion would Be ones, that we might be admitted there To those bright seats of everlasting bliss; How gladly would we labor all the time Appointed here, and when the summons come, For us to lay aside our mortal life, Then, with a peaceful smile, we would resign Our spirits o His hand who did bestow, And follow thee.

                        Milo Dec. 1843