Page:Songs of the Affections.pdf/138

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The sadness of this aching love Dims not our Father's house above.

Ye are at rest, and I in tears, Ye dwellers of immortal spheres! Under the poplar boughs I stand, And mourn the broken household band.

But, by your life of lowly faith, And by your joyful hope in death, Guide me, till on some brighter shore, The sever'd wreath is bound once more!

Holy ye were, and good, and true! No change can cloud my thoughts of you; Guide me, like you to live and die, And reach my Father's house on high!