OVER THE RIVER.
Over the river they beckon to me,
Loved ones who've crossed to the further side ;
The gleam of their snowy robes I see,
But their voices are lost in the dashing tide.
There's one with ringlets of sunny gold,
And eyes the reflection of heaven's own blue ;
He crossed in the twilight, gray and cold,
And the pale mist hid him from mortal view.
We saw not the angels who met him there;
The gates of the city we could not see ;
Over the river, over the river,
My brother stands waiting to welcome me.
