The light was faintly streaming
Within a darkened room,
Where a woman, faint and feeble,
Was sinking to the tomb.
The silver cord was loosened,
We knew that she must die;
We read the mournful token
In the dimness of her eye.
We read it in the radiance
That lit her pallid cheek,
And the quivering of the feeble lip,
Too faint its joys to speak.
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 for ever,
A spirit pure and bright.