Gird your hearts with silent fortitude, suffering yet hoping all things. |
Not there, not there, my child! |
Not there, not there, my child! |
The boy stood on the burning deck - / Whence all but he had fled. |
The cottage homes of England! / By thousands on her plains. |
The cottage homes of England! / By thousands on her plains. |
The stately homes of England, / How beautiful they stand! |
The stately homes of England! / How beautiful they stand, / Amidst their tall ancestral trees, / O'er all the pleasant land! |
They grew in beauty, side by side, / They filled one home with glee; - / Their graves are severed, far and wide, / By mount, and stream, and sea. |