1 O, stay thy tears! for they are blest
Whose days are past, whose toil is done;
Here midnight care disturbs our rest,
Here sorrow dims the morning sun.
2 For laboring virtue's anxious toil,
For patient sorrow's stifled sigh,
For faith that marks the conqueror's spoil,
Heaven grants the recompense, -- to die.
3 How blest are they whose transient years
Pass like an evening meteor's flight,
Not dark with guilt, nor dim with tears,
Whose course is short, unclouded, bright!
4 O, cheerless were our lengthened way,
But heaven's own light dispels the gloom,
Streams downward from eternal day,
And sheds a glory round the tomb!
5 Then stay thy tears, -- the blest above
Have hailed a spirit's heavenly birth,
Sung a new song of joy and love;
Then why should anguish reign on earth?