Her suffering ended with the day,Yet lived she at its close,And breathed the long, long night awayIn statue-like repose.But when the sun in all his stateIllumed the eastern skies,She passed through Glory's morning-gate,And walked in Paradise.
A Death-Bed, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919). Compare: Thomas Hood, The Death Bed, p. 591; Phoebe Cary, The Wife, p. 171.
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