Death

I am a stranger in the land
Where my forefathers trod;
A stranger I unto each heart,
But not unto my God!

I pass along the crowded streets,
Unrecognized my name;
This thought will come amid regrets--
My God is still the same!

I seek with joy my childhood's home,
But strangers claim the sod;
Not knowing where my kindred roam,
Still present is my God!

They tell me that my friends all sleep
Beneath the valley clod;
Oh, is not faith submissive sweet!
I have no friend save God!
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