"The Family Meeting" (1842)
Poetry by
Charles Sprague, Esq.
sung by
Mr. Braham,
composed [and arranged] and most respectfully dedicated to him by
Miss Augusta Browne,
Professor of the theory and practice of Music, Brooklyn, L. I.
The Authoress is credited for a part of this Melody is an English Composer

New York, NY: Firth & Hall, No. 1, Franklin Square
[Source: 100/078@Levy]

1. We are all here, Father, Mother, Sister, Brother,
All who hold each other dear.
Each chair is fill’d, we’re all at home!
Tonight let no dull sorrows come;
It is not often thus around,
Our old familiar hearth were found.

Bless, then the meeting and the spot;
For once be every care forgot;
Let gentle peace, assert her pow’r,
And kind affecttion rule the hour,
We’re all, all, here,
We’re all, all, here,
We’re all, all, here,
We’re all, all, here.

2. We’re not all here!
Some are away— the dead ones dear,
Who thronged with us, this ancient hearth,
And gave the hour to guiltless mirth,
Fate with a stern, relentless hand,
Look’d in, and thinn’d our little band.
Some like a night flash pass’d away,
And some sank lingering day by day;
The quiet graveyard some lie there.
The cruel occean has its share.
We’re not all here,
We’re not all here,
We’re not all here,
We’re  not all here.

3. We are all here,
Even they the dead though dead, so dear;
Fond memory, to her duty true,
Brings back their faded forms to view.
How life like through the mist of years,
Each well remembered face appears,
We see them as in times long past,
From each to each kind looks are cast;
We hear their words, their smiles behold,
They’re round us as they were of old—
We are all here.
We are all here.
We are all here.
We are all here.

4. We are all here,
Father, Mother,
Sister, Brother,
You that I love, with love so dear,
This may not long of us be said;
Soon must we join the gather’d dead:
And by the hearth we now sit round,
Some other circle will be found.
Oh! then, that wisdom may we know,
Which yields a life of peace below;
So in the world to follow this,
May each repeat, in worlds of bliss,
We’re all, all here.
We’re all, all here.
We’re all, all here.
We’re all, all here.