52
There.
Oh that I were buried!
Never any wearied dreaming,
No more night and no more seeming,
Truth's eternal splendor beaming,
There.
Never any wearied dreaming,
No more night and no more seeming,
Truth's eternal splendor beaming,
There.
Oh! if I were buried,
They who leave me to my sighing,
Would repent above my dying,
But I should not hear their crying
There.
They who leave me to my sighing,
Would repent above my dying,
But I should not hear their crying
There.
