Inheritance.
“ Take these treasures, all are thine,”1
Death, the Giver, spoke to me,—2
“ See the tired hands resign3
Gladly all their spoils to thee.4
“ All the envied golden store5
Won and kept with honest pride,6
Now the master’s need is o’er,7
See, he puts it all aside.8
“ All the work he held so dear9
Wrought with eager heart and brow,—10
Joy and sorrow, hope and fear,11
Nothing more shall move him now.12
“ And the love that like a flame13
Burnt his fevered soul away,—14
Died to coldness when I came,15
Died—and yielded up its prey.16
“ Thou, indeed,” said Death, “ art heir17
Not alone of this dead man,18
But of all the spirits fair19
That have lived since time began.20
“ When they went away from earth21
All their wealth they left below,22
Here it stays,—what is it worth ?23
Nay, ask mortals if they know.24
“ Take possession, guard thy prize,25
All the world is thine to win,—26
Yet forget not where he lies,27
Cold and still,—thy next-of-kin.28
“ Such as thou, was he of yore,29
Such as he is, thou shalt be,—30
Take,” said Death, “ thy goods in store,31
See, I give them all to thee.”32