Indexes for The Sacred Harp, 1991 Edition

Sister, thou wast mild and lovely,
Gentle as the summer breeze,
Pleasant as the air of ev’ning,
When it flows among the trees,
Peaceful be thy silent slumber,
Peaceful in the grave so low;
Thou no more wilt join our number,
Thou no more our songs shall know.

Dearest sister, thou hast left us,
Here thy loss we deeply feel,
But ’tis God that has bereft us;
He can all our sorrows heal.
Yet again we hope to meet thee,
When the day of life is fled,
Then in heav’n with joy to greet thee,
Where no farewell tear is shed.