Our birth is but a sleep and the forgetting of the soul. That rise with us. Our life star has had elsewhere its setting, and come from afar. Not in entire forgetfulness. And not in utter made dress. But tracking clouds of glory do we come from God. Who is our home? Why die? For I'm not from the womb why did I not give up the ghost?
When I came out of the body? The day is dying in the west. And heaven is teaching the earth to rest. Wait in worship while the night set her evening lamp alight. Through all the sky now the day is over. Night is drawing nigh; shadows of the evening steal across the sky. Dead, they burn you up with their love.
An interesting experience, but quite briefly, we so poor, Death let us come when its wills. Whether it smile a part or the whole. You tell me? Can any man cast me beyond the limit of the world? And wheresoever I may go? I was yet alive and that was my work, to sing praises to God.
( I Swear)
by Ronald Campbell.