A DEATH-BED

by: James Aldrich (1810-1856)

      ER suffering ended with the day,
      Yet lived she at its close,
      And breathed the long, long night away,
      In statue-like repose.
       
      But when the sun in all his state
      Illumed the eastern skies,
      She passed through Glory's morning gate
      And walked in Paradise.

"A Death-Bed" is reprinted from The Little Book of American Poets: 1787-1900. Ed. Jessie B. Rittenhouse. Cambridge: Riverside Press, 1915.

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