A THOUGHT
WERE I to kill the flesh To set my spirit free,Think'st thou, that ne'er in Heaven A place for me would be?
Would God be so unkind Ne'er to forgive the deed,If I my tortured soul From earthly clay had freed?
A REQUEST
WHEN I am dead and gone, Let there be no song,No flowers, pure and white, Or Vigils kept at night,When I am dead and gone.
Weep not, at my lone bier, E'en you, who hold me dear,Deem me at last blest To find the sleep of rest,When I am dead and gone.
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