For what is death? ’tis but a life—
The dawning of a new born day;
With immortality ’tis rife—
A bliss that can not pass away.
Then gently speak, and touch my hand;
Give me more light and truth divine;
And, when at last the spirit land,
Unfolds this waiting soul of mine,
Thou’lt be the first to welcome me—
To lure my raptur’d spirit higher;