Poems & Selections

Miss Me, But Let Me Go

When I come to the end of the road, and the sun has set for me.
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room.
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little, but not too long,
and not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that was once shared.
Miss me, but let me go.
For this is a journey we all must take,
And each must go alone.
It’s all a part of the master’s plan,
a step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick of heart,
go to the hills we know.
And bury your sorrow among the trees there.
Miss me – but let me go.

May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
By Emily Dickinson She died, —this was the way she died; And when her breath was done, Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun. Her little figure at the gate The angels must have spied, Since I could never find her Upon the mortal side.
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