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 […]

Weep not for me though I have gone into that gentle night grieve if you will, but not for long upon my soul’s sweet fight. I am at peace, my soul’s at rest there is no need for tears for with your love I was so blessed for all those many years. There is no […]

By Mary Frye Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the softly falling snow. I am the gentle showers of rain, I am the fields of ripening grain. I am in the morning hush, I am in […]