We are looking, we are looking,
    O'er a land by millions trod;
Thinking of the generations
    That have mouldered 'neath the sod.

We are standing, we are standing,
    On a land to mortals given;
But ere men have learned to live,
    The clay and spirit, they are riven.

We are sighing, we are sighing,
    For the loved ones that have fled;
Those who sojourned in this vineyard,
    But now are numbered with the dead.

We are thinking, we are thinking,
    Of that boat upon the tide;
Of the millions it has landed
    Over on the other 'side.

We are watching, we are watching,
    Watching as they pass along,
O'er this rough and winding way,
    Until they join that shining throng,

We are drawing, we are drawing,
    Drawing nigh the golden walls,
Where within the portals wide,
    The everlasting sunshine falls.

^__Anna A. Wright.