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MAKING MY WILL
Did you ask me what I was doing?
Only this, I've been making my will,—
Numbering over the treasures
I shall leave when my heart-throb grows still.
I know only those who have loved me,
Will find worth in what will be given,
For I haven't much wealth but affection,
Save what may be laid up in heaven.

Were you saying 'twas strange I should write then,
When I claim neither houses, nor gold?
Don't you know that the heart's inner chambers
Hold wealth whose worth is untold?
Only yesterday I was reading,
The heart-will of one now at rest,
And I thought 'twas a joy to thus number
Sweet gifts to those we love best.

Mother dear, to you and to father,
I will leave a fair casket of gold;
The gold of obedience wrapping close
Gratitude's bright gems in its hold.
And my sister shall have a sweet garland,
I'll make ready with love's fond care;
On each flower I'll trace a blessing,
And on every leaf a prayer.

And to you, ah, dear, I'd forgotten,
You are treading the golden street,
I must e'en take my gift up with me,
In hope that we there may meet.
I will leave of these flowers unfading
A portion for many a friend,
They will symbol that undying friendship
That suffers no change nor end.

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