Some day in Spring,
When earth is fair and glad,
And sweet birds sing,
And fewest hearts are sad —
Shall I die then?
Ah! me, no matter when;
I know it will be sweet
To leave the homes of men
And rest beneath the sod,
To kneel and kiss Thy feet
In Thy home, O my God!
Some Summer morn
Of splendors and of songs,
When roses hide the thorn
And smile — the spirit's wrongs —
Shall I die then?
Ah! me, no matter when;
I know I will rejoice
To leave the haunts of men
And lie beneath the sod,
To hear Thy tender voice
In Thy home, O my God!
Some Autumn eve,
When chill clouds drape the sky,
When bright things grieve
Because all fair things die —
Shall I die then?
Ah! me, no matter when,
I know I shall be glad,
Away from the homes of men,
Adown beneath the sod,
My heart will not be sad
In Thy home, O my God!
Some Wintry day,
When all skies wear a gloom,
And beauteous May
Sleeps in December's tomb,
Shall I die then?
Ah! me, no matter when;
My soul shall throb with joy
To leave the haunts of men
And sleep beneath the sod.
Ah! there is no alloy
In Thy joys, O my God!
Haste, death! be fleet;
I know it will be sweet
To rest beneath the sod,
To kneel and kiss Thy feet
In heaven, O my God!