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The summons was so sudden, at morning she was bright With rosy health and gladness, who was a corpse ere night. To her cheek there came no paleness, no shadow to her brow, She looked as glad and beautiful as does her picture now.

She laid her head so quietly upon her mother's knee, There came no mortal agony when Margaret ceased to be. And when they wound around her the white shroud of the dead, Her smile was sweet like slumber, and her cold cheek was red.

Oh, such a death is blessed—so happy and so young, As yet unpaid the penalty from crime and sorrow wrung. For though direct from Heaven the spirit in our clay, Too much its earthly fetters do wear the soul away.

Yes, blessed are the youthful, who leave this mortal strand, And come before their Maker as when they left his hand; Who bring a life, as pure almost as when it first was given— For of such is the kingdom, our Saviour said, of Heaven.