"I would meet death awake." <br /> <br />The strength that bore her on for years <br />Was ebbing fast away, <br />And o'er the pale and lifep;worn face, <br />Death's solemn shadows lay. <br /> <br />With tender love and gentle care, <br />Friends gathered round her bed, <br />And for her sake each footfall hushed <br />The echoes of its tread. <br /> <br />They knew the restlessness of death <br />Through every nerve did creep, <br />And carefully they tried to lull <br />The dying Queen to sleep. <br /> <br />In vain she felt Death's icy hand <br />Her failing heart-strings shake; <br />And, rousing up, she firmly said, <br />"I'd meet my God awake." <br /> <br />Awake, I've met the battle's shock, <br />And born the cares of state; <br />Nor shall I take your lethean cup, <br />And slumber at death's gate. <br /> <br />Did I not watch with eyes alert, <br />The path where foes did tend; <br />And shall I veil my eyes with sleep, <br />To meet my God and friend? <br /> <br />Nay, rather from my weary lids, <br />This heavy slumber shake, <br />That I may pass the mystic vale, <br />And meet my God awake.<br /><br />Frances Ellen Watkins Harper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dying-queen/
