When I Am Dead, My

She Gave Up Beauty In Her Tender Youth, Gave All Her Hope And Joy And Pleasant Ways; She Covered Up Her Eyes Lest They Should Gaze On Vanity, And Chose The Bitter Truth.

It's Surely Summer. For There's A Swallow: Come One Swallow, His Mate Will Follow, The Bird Race Quicken And Wheel And Thicken.

And May You Happy Live, And Long Us Bless.

Rest, Rest At The Heart's Core . . . Till Joy Shall Overtake.

Obedience Is The Fruit Of Faith.