Poems & Selections

The Bride

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 is to die!
When, one by one, those ties are torn,
And friend from friend is snatched forlorn,
And man is left alone to mourn, – –
Ah then, how easy ’tis to die!
When faith is firm, and conscience clear,
And words of peace the spirit cheer,
And visioned glories half appear, – –
‘Tis joy, ‘tis triumph then to die.
When trembling limbs refuse their weight,
And films, slow gathering, dim the sight,
And clouds obscure the mental light, – –
‘Tis nature’s precious boon to die.

May you live long, Die happy, And rate a mansion in heaven.
May you live as long as you want, And never want as long as you live.
May the blessing of light be on you— light without and light within. May the blessed sunlight shine on you and warm your heart till it glows like a great peat fire.
By Emily Dickinson If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain: If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.