Where are they now, the ones who went before?
Dust and ashes, are they? Gone up in smoke
Into thin air? — Well then, who will adore
My love when I am dead and gone for broke?
Who will remember her when I am gone
And celebrate her loveliness and sing
Of sky blue days under a summer sun,
And who will hold her hand and wear her ring?
Who weaves life’s gorgeous tapestry, who spins
The many strands that make the magic maze
Of Fate and Chance, salvation and our sins,
Confounding us with his Mysterious Ways?
—God bless my darling, never let her die,
And in your many mansions let her lie.