|Coming Home from Oregon|
Death gathers up thick clouds of gloom,
And wounds the soul with anguish deep;
Gaunt sorrow sits upon the tomb,
And round the grave dense shadows creep.
But Faith beams down from God’s fair skies
And bids the clouds and shades be gone.
We gaze with brightened, tear-dried eyes,
And lo! there stands the Holy One!
(An excerpt, from Poems, Salt Lake City: Deseret News Press, 1950. Written for the funeral of Brigham Young, Sept. 2, 1877.)