The Dying Nun.
Let the air blow in upon me.
Let me see the midnight sky.
Stand back sisters from around me.
Oh it is so hard to die.
Rais the pillow up, Oh Martha.
Sister Martha, you are kind.
Come and stand alone beside me.
Ere I leave you all behind.
Oh my Father nd my Mother.
Can you not forge the past?
When you here some stranger telling.
How your stary lamb diede at last.
But of all that used to love me.
Who will weep when I am dead?
None but you, dear Sister Martha.
Keep there watch around my bed.
Oh, The Heavenly strains come stealing.
Through the midnight drear and dim.
And I hear the chime bells pealing.
As I float away with him.
I am comming, Douglas, Douglas.
Where you are I too can come there.
Yes I come at last my dearest.
Death gives back your little Clara.
Here is my hand, now cold and frozen.
Once it was so soft and white.
And this ring that drops down from it.
Clasped my finger once so tight.
Little ring they thought so worthless.
That they let me keep it there.
Twas but one plain golden circlet.
With a brade of Douglas hair.
Sister Martha, Are you near me?
You are kinder than the rest,
Raise my head and let me lay it,
While I live upon your brest.
I was thinking of some music.
That I heard long, long ago.
Oh how sweet the nuns are singing.
In the chapel soft and low.
Sister Martha, Sister Martha.
Has the moon gone down so soone?
And this cell seems cold as winter.
Though I know it is June.
Sisters in their white beads lying.
Dreaming in there soft moonlight.
To their dreams comes no message.
Clara dies alone tonight.
Mrs Alice Cook.