Behold how sweet, how calm, how fair
1
Behold how sweet, how calm, how fair,The broken bud that slumbers there!E'er it had bloomed on earth, to die,It died on earth to bloom on high.
2
Weep not as those who weep in vain,Nor like the hopeless ones complain;Our frosted buds, our withered flowers,Shall spring again in fairer bowers.
3
O blessed hope to mourners given—The hope of union sweet in heaven!—No more to part, no more to weep,No more to sleep death's silent sleep.
4
Then let this hope our spirits cheer:The promised morn will soon appear,—The morn that sets the prisoners free,The morning of eternity.