Her suffering ended with the day,
Yet lived she at its close,
And breathed the long, long night away
In statue-like repose. But when the sun in all his state
Illumed the eastern skies,
She passed through Glory's morning-gate,
And walked in Paradise.

A Death-Bed, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919). Compare: Thomas Hood, The Death Bed, p. 591; Phoebe Cary, The Wife, p. 171.