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Mother! who hast watched our pillow In thy tender, sleepless love, Lo, we dare the crested billow, Mother! put thy trust above! Father! from thy guidance turning O'er the deep our way we take, Keep the prayerful incense burning On thine altar, for our sake.

Brothers! Sisters! more than ever Seem our clinging heart-strings twin'd, As that hallow'd bond we sever Which the hand of Nature join'd. But the cry of pagan anguish Thro' our inmost hearts doth sound, Countless souls in misery languish, We would haste to heal their wound.

Burmah! we would soothe thy weeping, Take us to thy sultry breast, Where thy sainted dust is sleeping, Let us share a kindred rest. Friends! our span of life is fleeting, Hark! the harps of angels swell, Think of that eternal meeting, Where no voice shall say farewell.