I trust the happy hour will come, 1
That shall to peace thy breast restore;
And that we two, beloved friend,
Shall one day meet to part no more.
It grieves me most, that parting thus, 2
All my soul feels I dare not speak;
And when I turn me from thy sight,
The tears in silence wet my cheek.
Yet I look forward to the time, 3
That shall each wound of sorrow heal;
When I may press thee to my heart,
And tell thee all that now I feel.{e}