In fancy all are here. The night is o'er,
And through dissolving mists the morning gleams;
And clustered round their hearths we see once more
The heroes of our dreams.
Strong, tawny faces, some, and some are fair,
And some are marked with age's latest prime,
And, seer-like, browed and aureoled with hair
As hoar as winter-time.
The faces of fond lovers, glorified —
The faces of the husband and the wife —
The babe's face nestled at the mother's side,
And smiling back at life;
A bloom of happiness in every cheek —
A thrill of tingling joy in every vein —
In every soul a rapture they will seek
In Heaven, and find again!