If I Should Die - by Milton C. Wilcox

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Oct 7, 1915

If I Should Die —

By Milton C. Wilcox

MILTON C. WILCOX

IF I should die, as die men do, Let not my friends make great display Of funeral train and costly flowers, But ’mid the violets and rue Just lay me quietly away, And lighter make the heavy hours.

Of long orations o’er the dead Let there be none; it is not meet; Just say, “He lived and longed to be A blessing to the souls that tread Life’s weary way with erring feet, And if he failed, God knows, not we.”

Just say, “The blundering, unskilled hand Thrust in the heartstrings of a friend, Oft discord wrought, but did not know, For differently the work he planned; With him it had another end, But what was meant for balm proved blow.

‘He erred and failed, yet hoped to reach The perfect mark of God for man, To see at last the Master’s face, To practice what he tried to preach, And be a part of God’s great plan, And trust, trust only, in his grace.”

Tell all who come to look away From man, who has no power to save, But look to him, the only Friend, And make not flesh their hope and stay, Who, saint today, tomorrow knave, But trust who stays unto the end.

Then leave me there ’mid moss and rue, And say, “He trusted Christ his Lord; And if Christ calls to death’s dark shore, ’Tis fitting, for his Lord is true; But if he calls to life’s reward, The praise is his forevermore.”

So not for praise or generous plaud Walk I the stressful path of strife, Nor for the flowers or funeral train, Nor for the things that worldlings laud, But in the holier joy of life. To tread the path of love and pain.