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.

By Alan Seeger I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade When Spring comes round with rustling shade And apple blossoms fill the air. I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and fair. It may be he shall take my hand And lead me into his dark land […]

God looked around his garden And He found an empty place. And then He looked down upon the earth, And saw your tired face. He put His arms around you, And lifted you to rest. God’s garden must be beautiful, He always takes the best. He knew that you were suffering, He knew you were […]

When life as opening buds is sweet, And golden hopes the fancy greet, And Youth prepares his joys to meet, – – Alas! how hard it is to die! When just is seized some valued prize, And duties press, and tender ties Forbid the soul from earth to rise, – – How awful then it […]