IN MEMORY OF APPEY M. MERRILL
17
Visions of that promised splendor
Of a mansion fair, on high;
Where, with welcome warm and tender
She will greet us by and by.—
By and by—sweet hope, elating—
When the Voice that bid dear Appey sleep
Shall call us forth, where she is waiting,
Ne'er to part, no more to weep.
Of a mansion fair, on high;
Where, with welcome warm and tender
She will greet us by and by.—
By and by—sweet hope, elating—
When the Voice that bid dear Appey sleep
Shall call us forth, where she is waiting,
Ne'er to part, no more to weep.
