the door of death - gordon crosse lyrics
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the door of death is made of gold
that mortal eyes cannot behold;
but when the mortal eyes are clos’d
and cold and pale the limbs repos’d
the soul awakes; and, wond’ring, sees
in her mild hand the golden keys:
the grave is heaven’s golden gate
and rich and poor around it wait;
o shepherdess of england’s fold
behold this gate of pearl and gold!
to dedicate to england’s queen
the visions that my soul has seen
and, by her kind permission, bring
what i have borne on solemn wing
from the vast regions of thе grave
before hеr throne my wings i wave;
bowing before my sov’reign’s feet
`the grave produc’d these blossoms sweet
in mild repose from earthly strife;
the blossoms of eternal life!’
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