Poems (Smith)/She is Not Dead

by Martha A. Smith

SHE IS NOT DEAD.

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She is not dead, but sleepeth,—
 Gone to God who gave;
Flowers around her bloometh,
 As they laid her in the grave.

Only passed, not gone forever,
 Unto her heavenly home,
To meet her loving Saviour,
 And left us on earth alone.

We miss thy face so kindly,
 In thy accustomed seat;
Thy gentle voice so sweetly
 Will never more us greet.

Thy mission here is ended;
 Thy work on earth is o'er;
Thy spirit-life is blended
 With angels forever more.