Make me a grave where'er you will,
In a lowly plain, or a lofty hill;
Make it among earth's humblest graves,
But not in a land where men are slaves.
I remember, well remember,
That dark and dreadful day,
Do you see this grain of sand
Lying loosely in my hand?
Do you know to me it brought
Just a simple loving thought?
Thank God for little children,
Bright flowers by earth's wayside,
The dancing, joyous lifeboats
Upon life's stormy tide.
Sharers of a common country,
They had met in deadly strife;
Men who should have been as brothers
Madly sought each other's life.
Do you blame me that I loved him?
If when standing all alone
I cried for bread a careless world
Two little children sit by my side,
I call them Lily and Daffodil;
I gaze on them with a mother's pride,
One is Edna, the other is Will.
"The dying words of Goethe."
"Light! more light! the shadows deepen,
God bless our native land,
Land of the newly free,
Oh may she ever stand
For truth and liberty.
'Twas a fearful night -- the tempest raved
With loud and wrathful pride,
The storm-king harnessed his lightning steeds,
And rode on the raging tide.