Only with the sea-bird's note
Shall our dying music float!
Lightly row! Lightly row!
Echo's voice is low.
Lightly row! Lightly row!
O'er the glassy waves we go;
Smoothly glide! Smoothly glide!
On the silent tide.
Let the wind and waters be
Mingled with our melody;
Sing and float! Sing and float!
In our little boat.
Shall We Gather?
(Pat's Pick, page 65.)
Shall we gather at the river
Where bright angels' feet have trod;
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?
CHORUS—Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river—
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
Ere we reach the silver river,
Lay we ever burden down;
Grace our spirits will deliver,
And provide a robe and crown. —Cho.
Soon we'll reach the shining river,
Soon our pilgrimage will cease;
Soon our happy hearts will quiver
With the melody of peace. —Cho.
/ 3 Flmts
