And When I Die
by Leslie Noyes
When I die I pray someone will mourn; that a song so achingly sweet will be offered up, and
People will sob in response. I also want a celebration, though, a praise service with dancing in every aisle,
Worshipful arms upstretched to the heavens. God only knows where I will turn up. I have not
Lived a blameless life; how interminably boring that would be, But still, I think of the ecstasy of
Being taken up by a heavenly host of angels, rising on wings of gossamer, when I die.