BURY ME IN THE MORNING

This beautiful poem I have cherished many years in my scrap­book and it always gave me pleasure to read it and imagine what the author, whose name is seldom connected with anything outside the political arena, might have been had he been spared.

Bury me in the morning, mother,

   Oh, let me have the light

Of the bright day on my grave, mother,

   Ere you leave me alone with the night.

Alone in the night of the grave, mother,

   'Tis a thought of terrible fear­

And you will be here alone, mother,

   And stars will be shining here.

So bury me in the morning, mother,

   And let me have the light

Of one bright day on my grave, mother,

   Ere I'm alone with the night.

You tell of the Saviour's love, mother,

   I feel that it is in my heart,

But, oh! from this beautiful world, mother,

   'Tis hard for the young to part;

Fer even to part, when here, mother,

   The soul is fain to stay;

For the grave is deep and dark, mother,

   And heaven seems far away.

Then bury me in the morning, mother,

   And let me have the light

Of one bright day on my grave, mother,

   Ere I'm alone with the night.

                                       Stephen A. Douglas.