Classic Poem

He stood beside his mother's grave,
A stern and lonely man,
His hair was white as is the snow,
His face was as the tan;
For many a mile, and many a year,
He'd roamed the ocean o'er,
And homeward came to see the face,
Alas, he'd see no more,
Alas, alas, he'd see no more,
Alas, alas, he'd see no more,
The stone was gray and flat the turf,
The daisies dry and dead,
And bare the branches of the elm
That spread above his head,
The village church and steeple gray
Were as in days of yore,
But one was sleeping 'neath the grass,
To hear the chime no more,
To hear the chime no more, no more,
To hear the chime no more, no more.
" All, all is gone, " the wand'rer said,
And she I loved lies here;
But o'er the turf that hides her form,
The sailor drops a tear;
His eyes were dim, his breath was slow,
As once again and more,
He wiped his tears away, and said,
" We'll meet on heaven's shore,
We'll meet, we'll meet on heaven's shore,
We'll meet, we'll meet on heaven's shore. "