Classic Poem

1. " Go, bring me, " said the dying fair, With anguish in her tone,
" My costly robes and jewels here, Go, bring them every one. "
2. " With glorious hopes I once was blest, Nor feared the gaping tomb;
With heaven already in my breast, I looked for heaven to come.
They strewed them on her dying bed, Those robes of princely cost; " Fa-
I heard a Saviour's par-doning voice, My soul was filled with peace; Fa-
ther, " with bitterness she said, " For these my soul was lost. "
ther, you bought me with these toys, I bartered heaven for these. "

3. " Take them they are the price of blood,
For these I lost my soul;
For these, must bear the wrath of God,
While ceaseless ages roll.
Remember, when you look on these,
Your daughter's fearful doom,
That she, her pride and thine to please,
Went quaking to the tomb. "

4. " Go, bear them from my sight and touch,
Your gifts I here restore;
Keep them with care, they cost you much,
They cost your daughter more.
Look at them every rolling year,
Upon my dying day,
And drop for me the burning tear, "
She said, and sunk away.