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Do not stand at my grave and weep
    I am not there.
    I do not sleep.
    I am a thousand winds that blow.
    I am the diamond glint of snow.
    I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
    I am the autumn rain.
    When you awake in the morning hush,
    I am the swift uplifting rush
    Of birds circling in flight.
    I am the stars that shine at night.
    Do not stand at my grave and weep.
    I am not there.
    I do not sleep.
                                    Author Unknown

I'll lend you for a little time a child of mine, He Said, 
For you to love the wile he lives and mourn for when he's dead.  
It may be six or seven years, or twenty-two or three,
but will you, till I call him back, take care of him for me?
He'll bring his charms to gladden you, and shall his stay be brief,
You'll have his lovely memories as solace for your grief,
I cannot promise he will stay, since all from Earth return,
But there are lessons, taught down there, I want this child learn.
I've looked the wide world over in my search for teachers true,
And from the throngs that crowd life's lane, I have selected you.
Now will you give him all your love nor think the labor vain,
Nor hate me when I come to call to take him back again?
I fancied that I heard them say, Dear Lord, Thy Will be Done!
For all the joy Thy child shall bring, the risk for grief we'll run.
We'll shelter him with tenderness, we'll love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've know forever grateful stay;
But shall the angels call for him much sooner than we've planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes and try to understand.
                               Edgar Guest