The Dying Exile
Who will stand, when I shall pillow
In the earth this aching head,
Pensive, by the drooping willow,
O'er my cold and narrow bed?
There will be no tender mother,
Aged sire, nor constant friend;
There will be no sister, brother,
O'er my lonely grave to bend.
Strangers then will heedless bear me
Where the stranger's dust must lie;
Yet, the offering none will spare me
Of a tear, while thus I die.
They behold my life-strings sever
At the conqueror's final blow;
But the heart that 's breaking — never
They its inward pangs shall know.
Come, ye whispering airs of heaven,
Take my sighs, my last adieu
To the country whence I 'm driven,
To the friends to whom I 'm true!
Let them know I 've ceased to languish;
Tell them I am freed from pain;
That my bosom swelled with anguish
Till its chords all snapped in twain.
Say, my last regrets were centred,
All my fondness lingered there,
Till upon a home I entered
Free from banishment and care:
That my glad, unburdened spirit
Soared triumphantly at last;
That, a country I inherit
Worth all sighs and anguish past.
Faith and hope, your strength is doubling!
Soon that home will be possessed,
" Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest! "
Who will stand, when I shall pillow
In the earth this aching head,
Pensive, by the drooping willow,
O'er my cold and narrow bed?
There will be no tender mother,
Aged sire, nor constant friend;
There will be no sister, brother,
O'er my lonely grave to bend.
Strangers then will heedless bear me
Where the stranger's dust must lie;
Yet, the offering none will spare me
Of a tear, while thus I die.
They behold my life-strings sever
At the conqueror's final blow;
But the heart that 's breaking — never
They its inward pangs shall know.
Come, ye whispering airs of heaven,
Take my sighs, my last adieu
To the country whence I 'm driven,
To the friends to whom I 'm true!
Let them know I 've ceased to languish;
Tell them I am freed from pain;
That my bosom swelled with anguish
Till its chords all snapped in twain.
Say, my last regrets were centred,
All my fondness lingered there,
Till upon a home I entered
Free from banishment and care:
That my glad, unburdened spirit
Soared triumphantly at last;
That, a country I inherit
Worth all sighs and anguish past.
Faith and hope, your strength is doubling!
Soon that home will be possessed,
" Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest! "
In the earth this aching head,
Pensive, by the drooping willow,
O'er my cold and narrow bed?
There will be no tender mother,
Aged sire, nor constant friend;
There will be no sister, brother,
O'er my lonely grave to bend.
Strangers then will heedless bear me
Where the stranger's dust must lie;
Yet, the offering none will spare me
Of a tear, while thus I die.
They behold my life-strings sever
At the conqueror's final blow;
But the heart that 's breaking — never
They its inward pangs shall know.
Come, ye whispering airs of heaven,
Take my sighs, my last adieu
To the country whence I 'm driven,
To the friends to whom I 'm true!
Let them know I 've ceased to languish;
Tell them I am freed from pain;
That my bosom swelled with anguish
Till its chords all snapped in twain.
Say, my last regrets were centred,
All my fondness lingered there,
Till upon a home I entered
Free from banishment and care:
That my glad, unburdened spirit
Soared triumphantly at last;
That, a country I inherit
Worth all sighs and anguish past.
Faith and hope, your strength is doubling!
Soon that home will be possessed,
" Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest! "
Who will stand, when I shall pillow
In the earth this aching head,
Pensive, by the drooping willow,
O'er my cold and narrow bed?
There will be no tender mother,
Aged sire, nor constant friend;
There will be no sister, brother,
O'er my lonely grave to bend.
Strangers then will heedless bear me
Where the stranger's dust must lie;
Yet, the offering none will spare me
Of a tear, while thus I die.
They behold my life-strings sever
At the conqueror's final blow;
But the heart that 's breaking — never
They its inward pangs shall know.
Come, ye whispering airs of heaven,
Take my sighs, my last adieu
To the country whence I 'm driven,
To the friends to whom I 'm true!
Let them know I 've ceased to languish;
Tell them I am freed from pain;
That my bosom swelled with anguish
Till its chords all snapped in twain.
Say, my last regrets were centred,
All my fondness lingered there,
Till upon a home I entered
Free from banishment and care:
That my glad, unburdened spirit
Soared triumphantly at last;
That, a country I inherit
Worth all sighs and anguish past.
Faith and hope, your strength is doubling!
Soon that home will be possessed,
" Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest! "
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