Recently a distant family member died. Her faith and her life are found in this sonnet, written by her. It contains both echoes of Donne and a fitting tribute to its author.
And now, death stands within my shuttered door
And bids me hence against my faltering will,
And all the songs I sang I'll sing no more,
And all the whisperings of love be still.
Then take me, death, if taking me you must,
And let my memories no more return.
Reduce my struggling body into dust
Securely sealed within a lidded urn.
Yet from that secret, silent grave shall rise
My living soul, redeemed, unfettered, free,
To wing its way above to heavenly skies
To be with Him, my Lord, eternally
When you, O Death, will ever banished be
And mine shall be the joyous victory.Molly Frick Wampler
April 25, 1906 - March 15, 2007
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