O God bid my poor body to ariseOn that bright day triumphant through the skies!
Yet this thou art alive, but if ye soar,My poor frail heart will have beat out its cryAnd sadly miss thy sweet form all the moreWhile helplessly I stand and watch you die.
O Weep No More ForMe When I Am Gone!
To them, eternal life beginsAnd God Himself shall wipe away all tears.
Mountains clothed in snowRobed in white against blue skiesMirrored in the lake.
Enjoy TheSound Of Silence.
Ere long this golden light shall pass and fadeExcept all cherish'd mem'ries ye have made.
