Songs of sadness 'Tis my destiny to sing, If I strike one note of gladness Sorrow comes on sable wing, Murmuring low, In her voice of plaintive woe; Joy can wait until to-morrow, Sing, oh, sing, to comfort sorrow.
Another barque—An old and a familiar one—Has slipped its moorings in the dark, And on its lonesome voyage gone, Gliding away, Silently, at the close of day, Piloted by the Unseen Hand To a better berth in the silent land.
Faintly I hear A voice like sweetest music, falling Upon the weary pilot's ear; Softly, soothingly 'tis calling—"Lay down thine oars, Upon these peaceful shores There is no watch for thee to keep, Let go thy anchor! Rest and sleep!"
Dimly I see The shining shores of that fair coast, Looming beyond the unplumbed sea, Which our old friend has crossed: The golden strand Of the mysterious shadow-land—The refuge of the soul—the haven Some call the border-land of heaven.
O, mighty faith! Illuminator of the gloom Of that dark vale, which men call death, But I, only a waiting-room Where souls abide Till they are judged, and purified; Light of the Light Eternal, we Triumph o'er death, possessing Thee.
