It is not the fear of death
That damps my brow;
It is not for another breath
I ask thee now;
I can die with lip unstirr'd
And a quiet heart—
Let but this prayer be heard
Ere I depart.
I can give up my mother's look—
My sister's kiss;
I can...
Just Once! Oh least Request!
Could Adamant refuse
So small a Grace
So scanty put,
Such agonizing terms?
Would not a God of Flint
Be conscious of a sigh
As down His Heaven dropt remote
"Just Once" Sweet Deity?