Yes, Holy Be Thy Resting Place Wherever Thou May'St Lie; The Sweetest Winds Breathe On Thy Face, The Softest Of The Sky. And Will Not Guardian Angles Send Kind Dreams And Thoughts Of Love, Though I No More May Watchful Bend Thy Longed Repose Above? And Will Not Heaven Itself Bestow A Beam Of Glory There That Summer'S Grass More Green May Grow, And Summer'S Flowers More Fair? Farewell, Farewell, 'Tis Hard To Part Yet, Loved One, It Must Be: I Would Not Rend Another Heart Not Even By Blessing Thee. Go! We Must Break Affection'S Chain, Forget The Hopes Of Years: Nay, Grieve Not - Willest Thou Remain To Waken Wilder Tears This Herald Breeze With Thee And Me, Roved In The Dawning Day: And Thou Shouldest Be Where It Shall Be Ere Evening, Far Away.