On his birthday, we no longer sing;
We have no joyous time;
But we know that he will celebrate
In the land where all’s sublime
And yet with human heart we long
To have him here once more;
And we lament the shortness of
When we had him before.
Oh Lord, let him somehow know
How much our love endures
And of the loneliness we feel for him
That time can never cure.