Ring the Bell Softly

Someone has gone from this strange world of ours

No more to ga­ther its thorns with its flow­ers;

No more to lin­ger where sun­beams must fade

Where

on all beau­ty

death’s fin­gers are laid.

Weary with ming­ling life’s bit­ter and sweet

Weary with part­ing

and nev­er to meet;

Someone has gone to the bright gold­en shore—

Ring the bell soft­ly

there’s crepe on the door;

Ring the bell soft­ly

there’s crepe on the door.

Someone is rest­ing from sor­row and sin

Happy where earth­ly strife en­ters not in;

Joyous as birds

when the morn­ing is bright

When the bright sun­beams have brought us their light.

Weary with sow­ing

and nev­er to reap

Weary with la­bor

and wel­com­ing sleep;

Someone’s de­part­ed to Heav­en’s bright shore—

Angels were anx­ious­ly long­ing to meet

One who walks with them on yon gold­en street;

Loved ones have whis­pered that some­one is blest

Free from all tri­als

and tak­ing sweet rest.

Yes

there’s ano­ther in an­gel­ic bliss

One less to cher­ish

and one less to kiss;

One more de­part­ed to Heav­en’s bright shore