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Thomas Wentworth Higginson, John Greenleaf Whittier, Chapter 13: closing years (search)
had little acute pain. He lay all night in peace, and died in the morning, one of the relatives present reciting softly his poem At last, as he passed away. This poem, written ten years before, is his best epitaph. At last When on my day of life the night is falling, And, in the winds from unsunned spaces blown, I hear far voices out of darkness calling My feet to paths unknown. Thou who hast made my home of life so pleasant, Leave not its tenant when its walls decay; O Love Divine, O Helper ever present, Be Thou my strength and stay! Be near me when all else is from me drifting; Earth, sky, home's pictures, days of shade and shine, And kindly faces to my own uplifting The love which answers mine. I have but Thee, my Father! let Thy spirit Be with me then to comfort and uphold; No gate of pearl, no branch of palm I merit, Nor street of shining gold. Suffice it if — my good and ill unreckoned, And both forgiven through Thy abounding grace-- I find myself by hands familiar bec