No Tears in Heaven (Crosby)

Our youth is tran­si­ent like a flow­er

That blooms

and fades

and dies;

Our life is but a sum­mer cloud

And like a sha­dow flies;

Then let us heed the warn­ing voice—

Today its call we hear

It speaks in deep and so­lemn tones

That come from yon­der bier.

The an­gel messenger of death

Has gent­ly borne away

A dear com­pan­ion from our side

To realms of end­less day;

Her voice no more will join with ours

The song of praise be­low

It wakes a pur­er

sweet­er strain

Where on­ly plea­sures flow.

When ga­thered on the Sab­bath morn

Her va­cant place we view

We’ll think how bright the world she treads

And in her steps pur­sue;

Be still

let ev­ery heart be still

And all our sor­row quell

We’ll bow sub­mis­sive to His will

Who do­eth all things well.