I must learn to live without thee, must, unmurmuring, learn to wait
With my soul bowed down within me, weary, lone and desolate;
Though my poor, crushed heart still yearneth, all her pleading cries are vain,
For the shining ones who took thee may not bear thee back again.
Oh ! it seemeth so mysterious that the Father thought it best
Thus to rob me of my treasure, when the mansions of the blest
Were all full to overflowing, while around the mercy-seat
Such a multitude of voices joined in praises low and sweet.

I must learn to live without thee, but 'tis only for a time,—
I shall see thee, know thee, love thee, in that fairer, purer clime !
I will search among the angels till I find thy radiant brow,
And will fold thee to my bosom as I long to clasp thee now.
Thou wilt pause to bid me welcome, though the bright, angelic throng
May have taught thee every anthem, every full and glorious song,—
Thou wilt hush thy harp to greet me ; thou wilt show me, by thy choice,
E'en the minstrelsy of heaven may not drown a mother's voice.

I must learn to live without thee ; thou wilt watch and wait for me
Till the boatman comes to bear me over Death's dark, mystic sea ;
'Twill be easier far to heed him, when his summons bids me come,
Than if thou wert left to mourn me in a clouded earthly home !
Oh ! the thought of thy fond welcome is the day-star of my soul,
And in dreams I leap to meet thee, spurning distance and control;
So I am not quite forsaken, though of life and love bereft,
While thy spirit hovers o'er me and this blessed hope is left.