Only a river between us,
Parting our dear ones awhile;
Only a veil that divides us,
Hiding the light of their smile:
Only a sigh and a struggle,
Only a moment of pain;
Then, mid the splendors of Eden,
We shall behold them again.

Only a place that is vacant,
When to our Sav­ior we bend;
Only a strain that is missing,
When our devotions we blend:
Only a voice, and a footstep,
Only a clasp of the hand,
Drawing us onward and upward,
Home to the bright promised land.

Tho’ ’neath the clods of the valley
Forms that we cherish may sleep,
God has commissioned His angels,
Watch o’er our loved ones to keep.
Only the leaves of the vine-tree,
Wither and languish and die;
God hath transplanted its branches,
Garnered its fruits in the sky.

Only a moment of anguish,
When at the Jordan we part;
Only a silver cord broken,
Hushing each throb of the heart:
After the storm, ’twill be sunshine,
After our labor, repose;
Then we shall meet where the morning,
Never, no ne­ver, will close.