IX

She died on Christmas day — it seems so sad

That one you love should die on Christmas day.

Head-bowed I knelt by her; O God! I had

No tears to shed, no moan, no prayer to pray.

I heard her whisper: “Call me, will you, dear?

They say Death parts, but I wo n't go away.

I will be with you in the cabin here;

Oh I will plead with God to let me stay!

Stay till the Night is gone, till Spring is nigh,

Till sunshine comes... be brave... I'm tired... good-bye....”