Classic Poem

If in the bosom of the glorified
Hereafter, there shall be a heart to swell
With throbs of love for spirits lov'd too well
Upon the earth; the dear ones who have died;
Oh! then, when death no longer may divide
Thy face from mine, and thou again may'st dwell
In this now sonless bosom, who can tell
The greatness of that heav'nly joy, untried!

How sweet the holy faith that dries my tears!
How sweet the smiling hope that stills my sigh!
Though lost while time shall roll away his years,

Thou yet shalt live when Time himself shall die.
Eternal love calls me where thou art gone,
And holdeth thee, my child, to draw me on.