VIII. CHORUS. Parting sunders many a tie What a beauty clothes these scenes Trees ne'er sprung so full and fair; Earth ne'er offered to the sky TIME. Room, room for throngs who come Loiterers in the flight of years, The final task is done! Others come these seats to fill Room! they throng the threshold well! XI. CHORUS. Yet one prayer we proffer still; Gently deal with one, whose eye Blessings on that parent-heart! Heaven's own peace be still its part. Grief, and pain, and sorrow dim, Time, O spare to him! XII. CHORUS. And for us who linger here, When shall music's grateful voice |