Page:Over the river, and other poems.djvu/51

I hoped to have given thee a golden lyre,
And heard thy voice in the heavenly choir."

But thou art weak and of mortal birth,
And thou clingest yet to the things of earth;
And longer still must thou tarry here,
Ere thou art fit for a higher sphere.

Yet look, O maiden, thine eyes shall see
A glimpse of the land of purity,
That thy soul may turn from these glittering toys
To the crystal fountain of purer joys.

Then the pale mist parted before my view,
And I saw the skies that are ever blue;
I caught a glimpse of the valleys green
And the river of life that floweth between;