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

O the lost, the un­for­got­ten,
Though the world be oft for­got!
O the shroud­ed and the lon­ely,
In our hearts they per­ish not!

Living in the si­lent hours,
Where our spir­its only blend,
They, un­linked with earth­ly trou­ble,
We, still hop­ing for its end.

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.