Softly woo away her breath,
Gentle death!
Let her leave thee with no strife,
Tender, mournful, murmuring life!
She hath seen her happy day,—
She hath had her bud and blossom;
Now she pales and shrinks away,
Earth, into thy gentle bosom! She hath done her bidding here,
Angels dear!
Bear her perfect soul above.
Seraph of the skies,—sweet love!
Good she was, and fair in youth;
And her mind was seen to soar.
And her heart was wed to truth:
Take her, then, forevermore,—
Forever—evermore—
The Song Of The Soul
A long funeral poem written by Edwin Leibfreed. Extracts from The Song Of The Soul would be suitable for a loved one’s funeral service.