If I Should Die Tonight If I should die to-night, My friends would look upon my quiet face Before they laid it in its resting-place, And deem that death had left it almost fair; And, laying snow-white flowers against my hair. Would smooth it down with tearful tenderness, And fold my hands with lingering caress— Poor hands, so empty and so cold to-night! If I should die to-night, My friends would call to mind, with loving thought, Some kindly deed the icy hands had wrought; Some gentle word the frozen lips had said; Errands on which the willing feet had sped; The memory of my selfishness and pride, My hasty words, would all be put aside, And so I should be loved and mourned to-night. If I should die to-night, Even hearts estranged would turn once more to me, Recalling other days remorsefully; The eyes that chill me with averted glance Would look upon me as of yore, perchance, And soften, in the old familiar way; For who could war with dumb, unconscious clay? So I might rest, forgiven of all, to-night. Oh, friends, I pray to-night, Keep not your kisses for my dead, cold brow— The way is lonely; let me feel them now. Think gently of me; I am travel-worn; My faltering feet are pierced with many a thorn. Forgive, oh, hearts estranged, forgive, I plead! When dreamless rest is mine I shall not need The tenderness for which I long to-night.
Posted on: Mon, 30 Sep 2013 05:18:35 +0000
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