Edmund Sears

For lo! the days are hastening on, By prophet-bards foretold, When with the ever-circling years, Comes round the age of gold; When Peace shall over all the earth Its ancient splendors fling

It came upon the midnight clear, That glorious song of old, From Angels bending near the earth To touch their harps of gold; "Peace on the earth, good will to man From Heaven’s all gracious King."

Calm on the listening ear of night Come Heaven’s melodious strains, Where wild Judea stretches far Her silver-mantled plains.

Death is a stage in human progress, to be passed as we would pass from childhood to youth, or from youth to manhood, and with the same consciousness of an everlasting nature.