Written by: elizabeth wesley

We are but lonesome shadows it’s true,
We pay the debt that's always due;
But scorn the years of no return,
And weep the tears that never learn.

There are lives to live and deaths to die,
Stories to tell and tears to cry;
For when all the willful souls have strayed,
Flesh and blood will surely fade.

When light and air become as one,
Giving grace to a brilliant sun;
Then we fly a message across the sky,
To hasten the hour when wings can fly.

When you are close and I am near,
Then clocks tick back to yesteryear;
And in my heart love blooms to sing,
In summer’s snow and winter’s spring.