In reverie let me wander,

    Through dreamland wander o’er

Again the scenes of girlhood

    In happy days of yore.

But listen, ‘tis pealing, low,

    of yonder silvery bell;

Like music stealing o’er me

    With sweet and thrilling knell.

Bring me the old stone house,

    That pile of granite grim;

Lead me through its ancient halls

    And up the stairways dim.

We welcome it with pleasure

    As all are seated there

Its note so softly telling;

    It is the hour of prayer.

Worn by many a footfall

    Of noble, good and true;

Who roam in pain no longer

    The paths that tears bedew.

While floats the song of evening

    From voices glad and free,

Our joyful hearts uniting

    In tuneful melody.

In that bright parlor leave me,

    Built there so near the sky,

Where silver moonbeams, mellow,

     Shine through the windows high.

Then doth our loved preceptor,

    With words most fitly spoke,

The richest of all blessings

    On each one there invoke.

It is the hour of twilight,

    So dusky, dim and gray;

But all our hearts are happy

    While tasks are laid away.

Though long years have passed away

    I seem to hear his voice

In earnest accents saying:

    “Make heaven your early choice.”

Familiar voices greet me,

    While loved ones linger near,

And many a fervent hand clasp

    Bespeaks that I am dear.

His weary life is ended,

    His tollsome work is o’er;

But we hope again to greet him

    On the celestial shore.

Not mid my early school days,

    Doth sweetest memory hold

So many pleasing treasures,

    More precious far than gold.

The cross he bore has vanished;

    A glorious crown is won;

With many a star bedecked

    The gifts of God’s dear Son.

The companionship of many,

    The friendship of the few,

Who through long years of trial

    Have proved both firm and true.