Classic Poem

What heav'nly music greets mine ear!
What seraph's voice is that I hear,
Breathing in numbers soft and low?
Methinks th' angelic strains I know.

Dearest sister, come away,
There's nought on earth that's worth thy stay;
Then, sister, linger not, but haste
The joys of paradise to taste.

The songs of praise we utter here,
Have ne'er been heard by mortal ear;
Nor mortal eye hath ever seen
"The fields array'd in living green."

The gates of precious stone unfold,
The streets are paved with shining gold;
Pure crystal streams of water flow,
And trees of fadeless verdure grow.

There is no sighing here, nor tears,
No guilty thoughts, no doubts or fears;
But love is pure and never dies,
And songs of endless praise arise.

Then sister, linger not, but come,
Angels await to guard thee home;
Here, in the mansions of the blest,
Here shall thy weary soul find rest.

Sister, I come, thy cheering voice
Bids my whole heart and soul rejoice;
Fain would my ling'ring spirit rise
On wings of Faith beyond the skies.

I linger but a little space,
To gaze upon my husband's face;
My gentle infant's lips to press,
And fold my first born to my breast.

My mother's voice once more to hear,--
Once more to see a brother dear,
A sister's parting kiss receive,--
Then, dearest sister, I will leave.

E'en now my clouded senses feel
A heav'nly transport o'er them steal;
My sight grows dim, thick comes my breath;
Sister, I come, for this is death.