Time's tide of change and uproar

Breaks above thy head

Feet of restless millions

O'er thy chambers tread.

Earthquakes, whirlwinds, tempests,

Tear the quivering ground;

Voices, trumpets, thunders,

Fill the air around.

Brethren, arise,

Let us go hence!

Death and the grave are here,

The sick-bed and the bier.

The children of the tomb

May love this kindred gloom;

98

ARISE AND DEPART.

But we, the deathless band,

Must see the deathless land.
The mortal here may rove,

The immortal dwell above.
Here we can only die,
Let us ascend on high!

Brethren, arise,

Let us go hence!

For we are weary here.
The ever-falling tear,
The ever-swelling sigh,

The sorrow ever nigh,
The sin still flowing on,
Creation's ceaseless groan,

The tumult near and far,

The universal war,

The sounds that never cease,

These are our weariness!

Brethren, arise,

Let us go hence!

This is not our abode;

Too far, too far from God!