Silently the shades of evening
Gather round my lowly door;
Silently they bring before me
Faces I shall see no more.

O, not lost but gone before us,
Let them never be forgot,
Sweet their memory to the lonely,
In our hearts they perish not!

How such holy memories cluster,
Like the stars when storms are past,
Pointing up to that fair heaven,
We may hope to gain at last.