Only A Few More Years! Weary Years! Only A Few More Tears! Bitter Tears! And Then -- And Then -- Like Other Men, I Cease To Wander, Cease To Weep, Dim Shadows O'Er My Way Shall Creep; And Out Of The Day And Into The Night, Into The Dark And Out Of The Bright I Go, And Death Shall Veil My Face, The Feet Of The Years Shall Fast Efface My Very Name, And Every Trace I Leave On Earth; For The Stern Years Tread -- Tread Out The Names Of The Gone And Dead! And Then, Ah! Then, Like Other Men, I Close My Eyes And Go To Sleep, Only A Few, One Hour, Shall Weep: Ah! Me, The Grave Is Dark And Deep! Alas! Alas! How Soon We Pass! And Ah! We Go So Far Away; When Go We Must, From The Light Of Life, And The Heat Of Strife, To The Peace Of Death, And The Cold, Still Dust, We Go -- We Go -- We May Not Stay, We Travel The Lone, Dark, Dreary Way; Out Of The Day And Into The Night, Into The Darkness, Out Of The Bright. And Then, Ah! Then, Like Other Men, We Close Our Eyes And Go To Sleep; We Hush Our Hearts And Go To Sleep; Only A Few, One Hour, Shall Weep: Ah! Me, The Grave Is Lone And Deep! I Saw A Flower, At Morn, So Fair; I Passed At Eve, It Was Not There. I Saw A Sunbeam, Golden Bright, I Saw A Cloud The Sunbeam'S Shroud, And I Saw Night Digging The Grave Of Day; And Day Took Off Her Golden Crown, And Flung It Sorrowfully Down. Ah! Day, The Sun'S Fair Bride! At Twilight Moaned And Died. And So, Alas! Like Day We Pass: At Morn We Smile, At Eve We Weep, At Morn We Wake, In Night We Sleep. We Close Our Eyes And Go To Sleep: Ah! Me, The Grave Is Still And Deep! But God Is Sweet. My Mother Told Me So, When I Knelt At Her Feet Long -- So Long -- Ago; She Clasped My Hands In Hers. Ah! Me, That Memory Stirs My Soul'S Profoundest Deep -- No Wonder That I Weep. She Clasped My Hands And Smiled, Ah! Then I Was A Child -- I Knew Not Harm -- My Mother'S Arm Was Flung Around Me; And I Felt That When I Knelt To Listen To My Mother'S Prayer, God Was With My Mother There. Yea! "God Is Sweet!" She Told Me So; She Never Told Me Wrong; And Through My Years Of Woe Her Whispers Soft, And Sad, And Low, And Sweet As Angel'S Song, Have Floated Like A Dream. And, Ah! To-Night I Seem A Very Child In My Old, Old Place, Beneath My Mother'S Blessed Face, And Through Each Sweet Remembered Word, This Sweetest Undertone Is Heard: "My Child! My Child! Our God Is Sweet, In Life -- In Death -- Kneel At His Feet -- Sweet In Gladness, Sweet In Gloom, Sweeter Still Beside The Tomb." Why Should I Wail? Why Ought I Weep? The Grave -- It Is Not Dark And Deep; Why Should I Sigh? Why Ought I Moan? The Grave -- It Is Not Still And Lone; Our God Is Sweet, Our Grave Is Sweet, We Lie There Sleeping At His Feet, Where The Wicked Shall From Troubling Cease, And Weary Hearts Shall Rest In Peace!