Decide Hereafter

By Thomas Moore

Is it not sweet to think, hereafter,
When the spirit leaves this sphere,
Love, with deathless wings, shall waft her
To those she long hath mourn’d for here?

Alas, alas, doth Hope deceive us?
Shall friendship, – love, – shall all those ties
That bind a moment, and then leave us,
Be found again where nothing dies?

Oh! if no other boon were given,
To keep our hearts from wrong and stain,
Who would not try to win a heaven
Where all we love shall live again.