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Guest from a holier world,
O, tell me where the peaceful valleys lie?
Dove in the ark of life, when thou shalt fly,
Where will thy wings be furled?

 

Where is thy native nest?
Where the green pastures that the blesséd roam?
Impatient dweller in thy clay-built home,
Where is thy heavenly rest?

 

On some immortal shore,
Some realm away from earth and time, I know;
A land of bloom, where living waters flow,
And grief comes nevermore.

 

Faith turns my eyes above;
Day fills with floods of light the boundless skies;
Night watches calmly with her starry eyes
All tremulous with love.

 

And as entranced I gaze,
Sweet music floats to me from distant lyres;
I see a temple, round whose golden spires
Unearthly glory plays!

 

Beyond those azure deeps
I fix thy home--a mansion kept for thee
Within the Father's house, whose noiseless key
Kind Death, the warder, keeps!