Here you will find the Poem Come To Me When I'm Dying of poet Frances Ellen Watkins
A SONG. Come to me when I'm dying; Gaze on my wasted form, Tired with so long defying Life's ever-rushing storm. Come, come when I am dying, And stand beside my bed, Ere yet my soul is flying, And I am cold and dead. Bend low and lower o'er me, For I've a word to say Though death is just before me, Ere I can go away. Now that my soul is hovering Upon the verge of day, For thee I'll lift the covering That veils its quivering ray. O, ne'er had I thus spoken In health's bright, rosy glow! But death my pride hath broken, And brought my spirit low. Though now this last revealing Quickens life's curdling springs, And a half-timid feeling Faint flushes o'er me flings. Bend lower yet above me, For I would have thee know How passing well I love thee, And joy to tell thee so. This love, so purely welling Up in this heart of mine, O, hath it e'er found dwelling Within thy spirit's shrine? I've prayed my God, in meekness, To give me some control Over this earthly weakness That so enthralled my soul; And now my soul rejoices While sweetly-thrilling strains, From low, harmonious voices, Soothe all my dying pains. They sing of the Eternal, Whose throne is far above, Where zephyrs softly vernal Float over bowers of love; Of hopes and joys, earth-blighted, Blooming 'neath cloudless skies, Of hearts and souls united In love that never dies. 'Tis there, 'tis there I'll meet thee When life's brief day is o'er; O, with what joy to greet thee On that eternal shore! Farewell! for death is chilling My pulses swift and fast; And yet in God I'm willing This hour should be my last. Sometimes, when day declineth, And all the gorgeous west In gold and purple shineth, Go to my place of rest; And if thy voice in weeping, Is borne upon the air, Think not of me as sleeping; All cold and silent there:-- But turn, with glances tender, Toward a shining star, Whose rays with chastened splendor Fall on thee from afar. And know the blissful dwelling Where I am waiting thee, When Jordan fiercely swelling Shall set thy spirit free.