Do any hearts ache there, beyond the peaceful river?
Do fond souls wait, with longing in their eyes,
For those who come not, will not come, forever, —
For some wild hope whose dawn will never rise?

Do any love there still, beyond the silent river,
The ones they loved in vain this side its flow?
Does the old pain make their heart-strings ache and quiver? —
I shall go home, some day, go home and know.

The hill-tops are bright there, beyond the shining river,
And the long glad day, it never turns to night, —
They must be blest, indeed, to bear the light for ever,
Grief longs for darkness to hide its tears from sight.

Are tears turned to smiling, beyond the blessed river,
And mortal pain and passion drowned in its flow? —
Then all we who sit on its hither bank and shiver,
Let us rejoice, — we shall go home and know.
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