Knowing that she had gone to live in the New Tomorrow,

Rowing across the river to the Elysian shore,

Praying I stood beside her feeling the peace of angels;

Saying a low farewell, I saw on her dear old face:

Etchings of children's laughter, lullabies dreamland winging;

Sketchings of sleeping babes, of hands that were clasped in prayer;

Beauty of homey living, filled with fire-opaled wonder;

Duty that yielded glory tuned with the lyre of joy;

Rearing of valiant sons, then having them die as martyrs;

Cheering of war-torn hearts that bled from the saber's kiss;

Sadness that dolorous drums were beating of greed and envy;

Gladness that love would triumph--etched by the artist, time.