He could not die when trees were green, For he loved the time too well
His little hands, when flowers were seen, Were held for the bluebell, As he was carried o'er the green
His eye glanced at the white-nosed bee; He knew those children ...
Unfriendly friendly universe,
I pack your stars into my purse,
And bid you so farewell
That I can leave you, quite go out,
I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air –
Between the Heaves of Storm –
Christ dying, rising, interceding, and reigning
Acts 4:24, etc
[Maker and sovereign Lord Of heav'n, and earth, and seas,
Thy providence confirms thy word,
It was not dying: everybody died
It was not dying: we had died before In the routine crashes— and our fields Called up the papers, wrote home to our folks,
And the rates rose, all because of us
We died on the wrong page of the almanac,
I cannot change, as others do,
Though you unjustly scorn;
Since that poor swain that sighs for you,
For you alone was born
I
OH
watch me; watch me still Thro' the long night's dreary hours,
Uphold by thy firm will Worn Nature's sinking powers
The daylight is dying Away in the west,
The wild birds are flying In silence to rest;
In leafage and frondage Where shadows are deep,
They pass to its bondage— The kingdom of sleep
"
with two other priests; the same night he died, and was buried by the shores of the lake that bears his name
Vital spark of heav’nly flame
Quit,
O quit this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, ling’ring, flying, O the pain, the bliss of dying
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,
335'Tis not that Dying hurts us so —'Tis Living — hurts us more —But Dying — is a different way —A Kind behind the Door —The Southern Custom — of the Bird —That ere the Frosts are due —Accepts a better Latitude —We — are the Birds — that stay
Brought forth in sorrow, and bred up in care,
Two tender Children here entombed are:
One Place, one Sire, one Womb their being gave,
They had one mortal sickness, and one grave