 | The Literary Works of James Smetham |  |
245
THE SOUL'S DEPARTURE
Oh let me die at dawn,
The stir of living men
Would call my waning spirit back
Unto its home again.
The stir of living men
Would call my waning spirit back
Unto its home again.
But at the early light
Existence seems afar,
Back in the depths of parted time
As fading planets are.
Existence seems afar,
Back in the depths of parted time
As fading planets are.
Let me go forth alone,
Before the sun uprise,
And meet the springing of the morn
In its own distant skies.
Before the sun uprise,
And meet the springing of the morn
In its own distant skies.
Yes! let me die at dawn,
The stir of living men
Would call my waning spirit back
Unto its home again.
The stir of living men
Would call my waning spirit back
Unto its home again.
| The Literary Works of James Smetham | |