 | [The author's last verses, in] Harper's cyclopaedia of British and American poetry |  |
THE AUTHOR'S LAST VERSES.
You've woven roses round my way,
And gladdened all my being;
How much I thank you, none can say,
Save only the All-seeing.
And gladdened all my being;
How much I thank you, none can say,
Save only the All-seeing.
May He who gave this lovely gift,
This love of lovely doings,
Be with you, wheresoe'er you go,
In every hope's pursuings.
This love of lovely doings,
Be with you, wheresoe'er you go,
In every hope's pursuings.
I'm going through the eternal gates,
Ere June's sweet roses blow!
Death's lovely angel leads me there,
And it is sweet to go.
Ere June's sweet roses blow!
Death's lovely angel leads me there,
And it is sweet to go.
| [The author's last verses, in] Harper's cyclopaedia of British and American poetry | |