When the end comes, and we must say good-bye
And I am going to the quiet land;
And sitting in some loved place hand in hand.
For the last time together, you and I,
We watch the winds blow, and the sunlight lie
Above the spaces of our garden home.
Soft by the washing of the western foam.
Where we have lived and loved in days past by:
We must not weep, my darling, or upbraid
The quiet death who comes to part us twain;
But know that parting would not be such pain
Had not our love a perfect flower been made.
And we shall find it in God's garden laid
On that sweet day wherein we meet again.