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XII.

She'll find my garden-tools upon the granary floor:
Let her take 'em: they are hers: I shall never garden`

more:

But tell her, when I'm gone, to train the rose-bush

that I set

About the parlor-window and the box of mignonette.

XIII.

Good-night, sweet mother: call me before the day is

born.

All night I lie awake, but I fall asleep at morn;

But I would see the sun rise upon the glad New-year, So, if you're waking, call me, call me early, mother

dear.

CONCLUSION.

I.

I THOUGHT to pass away before, and yet alive I am;
And in the fields all round I hear the bleating of the

lamb.

How sadly, I remember, rose the morning of the year! To die before the snowdrop came, and now the violet's here.

II.

O sweet is the new violet, that comes beneath the skies, And sweeter is the young lamb's voice to me that cannot rise,

And sweet is all the land about, and all the flowers that

blow,

And sweeter far is death than life to me that long to go.

III.

It seemed so hard at first, mother, to leave the blessed

sun,

And now it seems as hard to stay; and yet, His will be

done!

But still I think it can't be long before I find release; And that good man, the clergyman, has told me words of peace.

IV.

O blessings on his kindly voice and on his silver hair! And blessings on his whole life long, until he meet me there!

O blessings on his kindly heart and on his silver head! A thousand times I blest him, as he knelt beside my bed.

V.

He showed me all the mercy, for he taught me all the

sin.

Now, though my lamp was lighted late, there's One will let me in:

Nor would I now be well, mother, again, if that could

be,

For my desire is but to pass to Him that died for me.

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VI.

I did not hear the dog howl, mother, or the death-watch

beat,

There came a sweeter token when the night and morning

meet:

But sit beside my bed, mother, and put your hand in

mine,

And Effie on the other side, and I will tell the sign.

VII.

All in the wild March-morning I heard the angels call; It was when the moon was setting, and the dark was over all;

The trees began to whisper, and the wind began to roll, And in the wild March-morning I heard them call my soul.

VIII.

For lying broad awake I thought of you and Effie

dear;

I saw you sitting in the house, and I no longer here; With all my strength I prayed for both, and so I felt resigned,

And up the valley came a swell of music on the wind.

IX.

I thought that it was fancy, and I listened in my bed, And then did something speak to me - I know not what was said;

For great delight and shuddering took hold of all my

mind,

And up the valley came again the music on the wind.

X.

But you were sleeping; and I said, "It's not for them:

it's mine."

And if it comes three times, I thought, I take it for a

sign.

And once again it came, and close beside the window

bars,

Then seemed to go right up to Heaven and die among

the stars.

XI.

So now I think my time is near. I trust it is. I know The blessed music went that way my soul will have

to go.

And for myself, indeed, I care not if I go to-day,

But, Effie, you must comfort her when I am past away.

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