In Mamre's shady field of green,
Within the land I love so well,
Machpelah's spacious cave is seen,
And there my slumbering kindred dwell.

The Cedars with the giant bough,
When vesper gales their foliage stir,
Wave with a mournful cadence now,
Around that ancient sepulchre.

I would not rest in Egypt's vale,
But press in death a sacred sod,
Where seraph wings have stirr'd the gale,
Where Canaan's hills have seen their God.

Where Jordan laves the flowery plain,
And Tabor's summit greets the sky,
Oh, thither, born in death again,
My children, let your father lie.

There, Abraham and Sarah sleep,
There, Isaac and Rebekah rest,
There, angels Leah's ashes keep,
Her spirit mingling with the blest.

Within that quiet nook of earth,
Dear to my heart in sun or storm,
The land that gave my loved ones birth,
Oh, lay in death my lifeless form.

Their parent's latest wish was heard,
They bore him to his cherish'd grave,
And there, where forest leaves were stirr'd,
Old Jacob prest Machpelah's cave.