Five Minutes After I Die (Poem)
by Harriet A. Beavan (1847-1937)
Faces will sigh o’er my silent face,
Dear ones will clasp me in sad embrace,
Shadows of darkness will fill the place,
Five minutes after I die.
But the faces that sorrow I’ll fail to see,
The voices that murmur will not reach me,
But where, O where, will my spirit be,
Five minutes after I die?
Here I have rested, then roved and ranged;
Here I have cherished, then grown estranged,
Yonder and then ’twill all be changed,
Five minutes after I die.
Naught to repair the good I lack,
Fixed to the goal of my chosen track;
No room for repentance, no turning back,
Five minutes after I die.
Now I can stifle convictions stirred,
Now I can silence the Voice oft heard,
There’ll be fulfilment of His Word,
Five minutes after I die.
Mated for aye with my chosen throng,
(And eternity is so long – so long!),
Oh, woe is me if my soul is wrong,
Five minutes after I die.
What a fool am I (hard word, yet true),
Passing sure chance of a prize in view,
Doing a deed I can ne’er undo,
Five minutes after I die.
If I’m flinging a fortune so great away,
If I’m wasting salvation’s precious day,
Oh, the mournful sentence my soul will say –
Five minutes after I die.
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