The mist that rises from the river,
Evermore—evermore,
Tells how hearts are born to sever
As of yore—as of yore.
But the silvery mist returneth
Sparkling dew and blessed rain;
So the loving heart, though distant,
Comes again—comes again.

The stars that shine in brightness o'er us
In the sky—in the sky,
Speak of loved ones gone before us
Born to die—born to die,
Who, in days of earthly sadness,
O'er us watch with tender love,
As the starlight falls around us
From above—from above.

The rose that gives, before it leaves us,
Fragrance rare—fragrance rare,
Links of love in absence weaves us
Sweet to wear—sweet to wear;
So true hearts in love united
Bound by pure affection's chain,
Though in life or death divided,
Meet again—meet again.