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1850–1919

IF I SHOULD DIE.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

If I should die, how kind you all would grow! In that strange hour I would not have one foe. There are no words too beautiful to say Of one who goes forevermore away

Across that ebbing tide which has no flow. With what new lustre my good deeds would glow! If faults were mine, no one would call them so, Or speak of me in aught but praise that day,

If I should die. Ah, friends! before my listening ear lies low, While I can hear and understand, bestow That gentle treatment and fond love, I pray,

The lustre of whose late though radiant way Would gild my grave with mocking light, I know, If I should die.

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IF I SHOULD DIE. · Ella Wheeler Wilcox · Poetry Cove