When I am dying, let me know <br />That I loved the blowing snow <br />Although it stung like whips; <br />That I loved all lovely things <br />And I tried to take their stings <br />With gay unembittered lips; <br />That I loved with all my strength, <br />To my soul's full depth and length, <br />Careless if my heart must break, <br />That I sang as children sing <br />Fitting tunes to everything, <br />Loving life for its own sake.<br /><br />Sara Teasdale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-prayer/
