To what should welcome her when Life was gone;
She felt as if—to all she knew so well—
Its voice was whispering her to say "farewell;"
Was bidding her forget her happy home;
Was farther fleeting still—still beckoning her to come.
'She felt as one might feel who, laid at rest,
With cold hands folded on a panting breast,
Has just received a husband's last embrace,
Has kissed a child, and turned a pallid face
From this world—with its feelings all laid by—