When I come to the end of the road and the sun has set for me, I want not rites in a gloom-filled room, why cry for a soul set free? Miss me a little, and not for long, and not with your head bowed low. Remember the love that once we shared.
Miss Me – but let me go.
For this journey that we all must take, and each must go alone, it is all part of the Master plan, a step on the road to Home. When you are lonely and sick of heart, go to the friends we know, and bury your sorrows in doing good deeds;
Miss Me – but let me Go.
SHE LIVES…
I cannot think and will not say that she is dead, she is just away. With a cheery smile and wave of the hand, she has wandered into that better land, and left us thinking how wondrous fair, it must be, since she lingers there. And you, oh, you who so fondly yearn for the welcome step and the glad return, think of her living on, as dear in the land of there as the land of here; think of her living on, I say, she is not dead, she is just away. Nor is she away from the better part; away from the eye, but not the heart; and she lingers near to sooth our pain. And teach us that life and death are gain; and she waits on that bright eternal shore for the handclasp of love and life once more.
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