Gracious as sunshine, sweet as dew

Pain is no longer pain when it is past.

White as the blossoms which the almond-tree, Above its bald and leafless branches bears.

[T]he pure memories given To help our joy on earth, when earth is past, Shall help our joy in heaven!

The lotos bowed above the tide and dreamed.

With guilt's defilement stained without, within, How can I hope Thy cleansing grace to win? —Because Thou saidst, "I have forgiven thy sin."

The scene was changed. It was a bark that slowly held its way, And o'er its lee the coast of France in the light of evening lay; And on its deck a lady sat, who gazed with tearful eyes Upon the fast receding hills that dim and distant rise.