BY FRANCES E. W. HARPER. The silver cord was loosened, We knew that she must die; We read the mournful token In the dimness of her eye. Like a child oppressed with slumber, She calmly sank to rest, With her trust in her Redeemer, And her head upon his breast. She faded from our vision, Like a thing of love and light; But we feel she lives forever, A spirit pure and bright. |