Our Mary is dead and our hearts beat with pain,
To think that our loved one we'll not meet again.
'Til our life here below, like her's, has and end.
When we hope to with her, an eternity spend.
Is our Mary dead? Oh no! It can't be.
Our dear one still lives, her soul is set free;
Her spirit has flown to the Mansions of Rest.
And our Mary is happy, she dwells with the blest.
How sad were our hearts, how shrouded in gloom.
As we laid her away in the dark narrow tomb;
But faith lights up the darkness, on God's promise we stand.
Our darling dwells safely at her Savior's right hand.
May this thought be our comfort, while we tarry below.
If we trust in her Saviour, unto her we we shall go;
When life's toils are ended - earth's scenes left behind,
A home with our Mary, in heaven we'll find.
A happy home in heaven, for Jesus sake I know,
The Lord will give unto us if we do his will below;
And there we'll meet with her who has only gone before,
And dwell with her forever, and part with her no more.