He has gone—he has gone—

To his spirit-home;

And, oh! it thrills his soul with joy,

In realms of bliss to roam.

But we must shed the burning tear

To part with him we love;

And now for us the world is gloom,

Since he has gone above.

He has gone—he has gone—

To his spirit-home;

And, oh! it thrills his soul with joy,

In realms of bliss to roam.

Weeping eyes—broken hearts—

Oft he bid rejoice;

And homes of woe were full of praise,

That heard his loving voice:

For oft he soothed poor sorrow's tear,

And wept when they were sad;

And many were the orphan-forms

His generous bounty clad.

Weeping eyes—broken hearts—

Oft he did rejoice;

And homes of woe were full of praise,

That heard his loving voice.

Gentle words—heavenly thoughts—

Linger where he trod:

And, oh! it was our childhood's charm

To hear him talk of God.

Then let us ever strive to live,

As he, our friend, has done;

That we may reach the happy life

Which he has now begun.

Gentle words—heavenly thoughts—

Linger where he trod;

And, oh! it was our childhood's charm

To hear him talk of God.

Fare thee well—fare thee well!

We around thee weep;

But, oh! we love thee, father, still,

And angels guard thy sleep.

The kind "Old Oak" for us no more

Shall sheltering branches spread;

And, oh! our hearts are wrung with grief,

For he we loved is dead.

Fare thee well—fare thee well!

We around thee weep;

But, oh! we love thee, father, still,

And angels guard thy sleep.