How oft have we listened, unwilling to part,
While sweet heavenly music gushed forth from thy heart,
Till angels in glory, well pleased with the strain,
Re-echoed it over the heavenly plain.

The sound of thy voice we can never forget,
Thy last parting smile sweetly lingers here yet;
And since thy freed spirit to heaven was borne,
Our hearts crave the boon o'er thy mem'ry to mourn.

Adieu, dearest Mary, thy spirit has flown
To those blissful regions where tears are unknown;
No trials assail thee, no troubles or fears,--
The smile of thy Savior has dried up thy tears.

No more shalt thou weep o'er thy dear Henry,[3] dead--
For now by his side thou art resting thy head;
Thou now dost behold him in glory above.
But Jesus, thy Savior, outvies him in love.

Transported with joy, with thy Savior at rest,
Though angels are singing, you'll praise him the best.
Bright glories, unfolding, still burst on thy view--
The song thou art chanting will ever be new.

Thy sun at its zenith on earth ceased to shine,
But beams with new lustre in regions divine;
For ages eternal 't will ever shine on--
Still gath'ring new splendor from God's dazzling throne.