Page:Poems Angier.djvu/113

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THE DYING HUSBAND TO HIS WIFE.
99
Crown, harp, and raiment spotless, white,
Will soon be mine, in the land of light;
Then wear no mourning robes for men
White, like thy soul, let thy garments be."

A look, a smile, a murmured prayer,
And those pale lips closed, but the hallowed air
Still echoed the dear, familiar tone,
"In heaven the true heart claims its own."

The uncaged spirit upward sprung,
While its "welcome home" was by angels sung;
And now, beside the crystal sea,
He watching waits, dear heart for thee.