Mary Jacqueline Simon Moo

Jacqueline S. Moore] (1926-2002 / Hannibal, Missouri,

The Last Kiss

Oh! take me to her dying bed,
To get her farewell kiss,
Ere she be numbered with the dead,
Or her immortal soul has fled
To realms of endless bliss.

I gazed upon her palid cheek;
The rosy glow was gone;
But beauty still, tho' pale and meek,
Was there. I wept, and tried to speak,
And said, 'Thou art my own.'
I took her wasted hand in mine,
And held it to my heart;
She whispered, 'Love, I still am thine,
And will be in our home divine,
Where we shall never part.'

'Ah! do not leave me thus to grief,'
I said, and inly sighed;
'Weep not; remember life is brief,
And heaven brings a sure relief,
'Farewell!' she said, and died.

The chill of death was on her brow;
A smile illumed her face,
Which told me she was happy now;
For, faithful to her sacred vow,
She sought redeeming grace.

I knelt besides her lifeless clay,
And took my farewell kiss;
And then I longed to pass away,
To be with her, thro' endless day,
In yon bright home of bliss.
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