90
POEMS.
THOUGHTS ON DEATH.
This life for me is nearly o'er,
I see beyond the shining shore,
Where I may rest forever more,
In that bright world above.
Oh, take me home, my God, I pray,
I would not in this cold world stay,
'Tis such a dark and dreary way,
And such bright Heaven above.
I would not in this cold world stay,
'Tis such a dark and dreary way,
And such bright Heaven above.
Soon I'll sleep my last long sleep,
The sleep that knows no waking,
And pass forever from your sight,
Like the dawn gently breaking.
The sleep that knows no waking,
And pass forever from your sight,
Like the dawn gently breaking.
And when you these lines may read,
Think how soon that we shall be
Calmly sleeping with the dead,
Then you perhaps will think of me.
Think how soon that we shall be
Calmly sleeping with the dead,
Then you perhaps will think of me.
I feel old age is creeping o'er me,
And here I would not strive to stay;
I know my God is beckoning onward
To prepare me for the coming day.
And here I would not strive to stay;
I know my God is beckoning onward
To prepare me for the coming day.
