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Peaceful rest, ye silent dead!
Rest, ye weary wanderers, rest;
Gentle is your earthly bed;
Quiet is the aching breast.


Peaceful rest, for o'er the tomb
Weeping willows love to wave;
Rest, for Spring's perennial bloom
Clusters fairest on the grave.


Rest, for life is but a dream;
Bliss is nought but gilded woe;
They that live enjoy the gleam,
They that slumber truly know.


Rest! no sorrow can befall ye,
Mingle with the valley's clod;
Rest, till nature's cry shall call ye,
Call ye to approach your God.