Calmly fell the silver moonlight
Over hill and over dale,
As with mournful hearts we lingered
By the couch of Lora Vale.
She way dying, gentle Lora,
She was passing like a sigh,
From a world of love and beauty,
To a brighter world on high.
Lora, Lora, still we love thee.
Though we see thy form no more;
And we know thou'lt come to meet us,
When we reach the mystic shore.
Brightly dawned the morrow's morning
Over hill and over dale;
Still with mournful hearts we lingered
By the side of Lora Vale.
She was almost at the river,
When the light broke from the sky,
And she smiled and whispered faintly:
I am not afraid to die!-Chorus.
Softly through the trellised window,
Came the West-wind's gentle breath;
But she beetled not its mildness,
For she slept the sleep of death.
And beyond the silver moonbeams,
Ay, beyond the stars of night;
Now she dwells, our darling Lora,
In the home of angels bright.-Chorus