Explore "The Dying Christian" by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The light was faintly streaming / Within a darkened room, / Where a woman, faint and feeble, / Was sinking to the tomb.
The silver cord was loosened, / We knew that she must die; / We read the mournful token / In the dimness of her eye.
We read it in the radiance / That lit her pallid cheek, / And the quivering of the feeble lip, / Too faint its joys to speak.
Like a child oppressed with slumber, / She calmly sank to rest, / With her trust in her Redeemer, / And her head upon His breast.
She faded from our vision, / Like a thing of love and light; / But we feel she lives for ever, / A spirit pure and bright.