When all my lines are left to fade,
And my last page is turned,
I think that I shall see them home,
For there, they are affirmed
By that great heart
That loves the lines
And would in love
Reclaim,
As only love can love a line
On this material plane
But as the heart, itself must fade
Into God’s great unknown,
Let all my pages turn for Him,
For them, I do not own.