(Written during sickness).
Soul -
Oh! say must I leave this world of light
With its sparkling streams and sunshine bright,
Its budding flowers, its glorious sky?
Vain 'tis to ask me - I cannot die!
Angel -
But, sister, list! in the realms above,
That happy home of eternal love,
Are flowers more fair, and skies more clear
Than those thou dost cling to so fondly here.
Soul -
Ah! yes, but to reach that home of light
I must pass through the fearful vale of night;
And my soul with alarm doth shuddering cry -
O angel, I tell thee, I dare not die!
Angel -
Ah! mortal beloved, in that path untried
Will I be, as ever, still at thy side,
Through gloom to guide till, death's shadows passed,
Thou nearest, unharmed, God's throne at last.
Soul -
Alas! too many close ties of love
Around my wavering heart are wove!
Fond, tender voices, press me to stay -
Think'st thou from them I would pass away?
Daily my mother, with anguish wild,
Bends o'er the couch of her dying child,
And one, nearer still, with silent tears,
Betrays his anguish, his gloomy fears -
Yes, even now, while to thee I speak,
Are hot drops falling upon my cheek;
Think you I'd break from so close a tie?
No, my guardian angel, I cannot die!
Angel -
Poor child of earth! how closely clings
Thy heart to earth and to earthly things!
Wilt thou still revolt if I whisper low
That thy Father in Heaven wills it so -
Wills that with Him thou should'st henceforth dwell,
To pray for those whom thou lovest so well,
Till a time shall come when you'll meet again,
To forget for ever life's grief and pain?
Soul -
Spirit, thy words have a potent power
O'er my sinking heart in this awful hour,
And thy soft-breathed hopes, with magic might.
Have chased from my soul the shades of night.
Console the dear ones I part from now,
Who hang o'er my couch with pallid brow,
Tell them we'll meet in yon shining sky -
And, Saviour tender, now let me die!