Since Fate's tyrannical decree,
Sweet friend, dissevers you and me,
Now memory shall vanquish fate,
And yield the bliss we knew so late.

Yes, she a mournful devotee,
From scenes of busy strife shall flee;
To kneel beneath that cherish'd shrine,
Whose every offering is thine.

Oh! sometimes in the lonely hour,
My heart shall own a deeper power,
And tears shall tell, upon my cheek,
The grief that words could never speak.