Farewell, father! I am a dying,
Going to the “glory land,”
Where the sun is ever shining,
And the zephyr’s ever bland.
Where the living fountains flowing,
Quench the pining spirit’s thirst;
Where the tree of life is growing,
Where the crystal fountains burst.
Father! hear that music holy
Floating from the spirit land!
At the pearly gates of glory,
Radiant angels waiting stand.
Father! kiss your dearest Eva,
Press her cold and clammy hand,
Ere the glittering hosts receive her,
Welcome to their cherub band.