Classic Poem

Softly woo away her breath,
— Gentle Death!
Let her leave thee with no strife,
— Tender, mournful, murmuring Life!
She hath seen her happy day: —
— She hath had her bud and blossom:
Now she pales and shrinks away,
— Earth, into thy gentle bosom!

She hath done her bidding here,
— Angels dear!
Bear her perfect soul above,
— Seraph of the skies, — sweet Love!
Good she was, and fair in youth,
— And her mind was seen to soar,
And her heart was wed to truth:
— Take her, then, for evermore, —
— — For ever — evermore.