WHEN I AM DEAD.
Will friends remember that I lived,
Give me a passing thought,
Give tribute to what I have done,
To what I may have wrought.
Or will they pass with heedless laugh,
Not feeling one regret
That I have gone beyond their ken;
And will they soon forget
That I loved them, that they loved me,
That friendship in the past
Was part, and parcel of our lives;
We hoped ’twould ever last.
But when I’m dead, I hope few tears
Will then be shed for me.
If others then shall take my place,
I shall not grieve to see
My loved ones happy without me.
Why should they grieve for aye?
Their duties they must ever do,
The laws of life obey.
Forget me then when I am dead;
I fain would have it so.
If world is better for my life,
Bequeath I would not woe
To those I leave behind on earth;
They need not shed one tear,
Nor be unhappy for one hour;
Nor need they have one fear
Of what befalls me when I die.
I’ll go where I belong.
I shall not crowd nor push aside
The ever swelling throng.—
My place I’ve made while here on earth,
And I shall go therein
Without a fear, without a thought
Of any earthly sin.
I’ve lived, I’ve loved, I’ve done the work
That was laid out for me.
I still shall live, I still shall love
Throughout eternity.
Be patient with the living ones,
The dead need not your care.
The living ones need comforting
For much they have to bear.
“’TIS FOLLY TO BE WISE.”
Poor Folly will build a grand mansion,
And in it the wise man may live.
Poor Folly may hoard up his money,
But Wisdom will gladly it give.
Poor Folly Life’s game is aye playing,
And often the game he may win.
And Folly may build a cathedral,
And Wisdom may pray therein.
Though Folly knows how to make money,
He spends it full oft like a fool,
And Wisdom may do the same also,
But it is not always the rule.
If Folly were better than Wisdom,
’Twere foolish for us to be wise,
Perhaps though there’s folly in wisdom,
And wisdom in folly oft lies.
THE OLD OAK’S REVERIE.
I’ve stood and fought for centuries past
The storms of wind which beat,
And hurled their fury on my head,
But could not me defeat.
Though generations have passed on,
And gone to their last rest.
I’ve stood the ravages of time,
Have ever borne the test
Of summer’s heat, of winter’s cold,
And lightning’s scorching blast.
Unconquered been in nature’s fight,
As if of iron cast.
Sometimes when storms beat on my head,
I little cared for life;
I would have giv’n the battle up,
With all its fierce, fierce strife.
But then again I felt life’s love
Go coursing through my veins,
And then I felt impelled to say
I’m thankful that God reigns.
Long years ago,—I count them not,
A child on hillside stopped.
His pockets filled with acorns ripe,
And one of them he dropped.
I soon sprang up from out the earth,
With life and hope so strong.
I took my place, have kept it too
Through all these centuries long.
For many years the birds have built
Their nests beneath my boughs,
Have sung their love songs through the days,
Each day renewed their vows.
I learned their love songs I am sure,
I shared their joy and pride;
When lover brought to his old home
His sweetheart, his bird bride.
I’m lonely e’er when they depart
To fairer, warmer lands.
Impatiently await the time
When Love again demands
Their secret nesting ’mong my boughs.—
Again I’ll hear Love’s call;
Will hear their marriage vows renewed.
For Love e’en birds enthrall.