Take them o'Death And bear away Whatever thou canst Call thine own Thine image stamped Upon this clay Doth give thee that But that alone Take them o'Great Eternity Our little life is but a gust That bends the braches of thy tree And trails it's blossoms in the dust Take them o'Grave and let them lie Folded upon thy narrow shelves As garments my the soul laid by And precious only to ourselves Take them o'Great Eternity Our little life is but a gust That bends the braches of thy tree And trails it's blossoms in the dust Take them o'Death And bear away Whatever thou canst Call thine own Thine image stamped Upon this clay Doth give thee that But that alone Take them o'Great Eternity Our little life is but a gust That bends the braches of thy tree And trails it's blossoms in the dust