How blest are they whose transient years

Pass like an evening meteor’s flight;

Not dark with guilt, nor dim with tears:

Whose course is short, unclouded, bright.

2 O, cheerless were our lengthened way:

But heaven’s own light dispels the gloom,

Streams downward from eternal day,

And casts a glory round the tomb.

3 O, stay thy tears; the blest above

Have hailed a spirit’s heavenly birth,

And sung a song of joy and love;

Then why should anguish reign on earth?