If I should die and leave you here awhile, 
   Be not like others, sore undone, who keep 
Long vigils by the silent dust, and weep. 
   For my sake turn again to life and smile, 

Nerving thy heart and trembling hand to do 
   Something to comfort other hearts than thine. 
Complete those dear unfinished tasks of mine 
   And I, perchance, may therein comfort you. 

   A. Price Hughes

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