I am ready to meet my maker, but whether my maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me read more

I am ready to meet my maker, but whether my maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.

Death is a black camel, which kneels at the gates of all.

Death is a black camel, which kneels at the gates of all.

We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears. We must not demean life by standing in awe of death.

We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears. We must not demean life by standing in awe of death.

So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
So gently shuts read more

So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave along the shore.

I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another read more

I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter.

All say, "How hard it is that we have to die"--a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people read more

All say, "How hard it is that we have to die"--a strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live.

Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before,
Advanced a stage or two upon that road
read more

Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before,
Advanced a stage or two upon that road
Which you must travel in the steps they trod.

Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space,
In twilight land, in no man's land,
Two hurrying shapes met face read more

Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space,
In twilight land, in no man's land,
Two hurrying shapes met face to face
And bade each other stand.
"And who are you?" cried one, a-gape,
Shuddering in the glimmering light.
"I know not," said the second shape,
"I only died last night."

Don't strew me with roses after I'm dead. When Death claims the light of my brow No flowers of life read more

Don't strew me with roses after I'm dead. When Death claims the light of my brow No flowers of life will cheer me: instead You may give me my roses now!