John Alden Carpenter — On the day when death will knock at thy door

On the day when death will knock at thy door What wilt thou offer to him? Oh, I will set before my guest the full vessel of my life; I will never let him go with empty hands All the sweet vintage of all my autumn days and summer nights All the earnings and gleanings of my busy life Will I place before him at the close of my days When death will knock at my door