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

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