A person is not really ready to live until he is ready to die. It was a dark night in Marshfield, October 24, 1852. Daniel Webster was dying. He was ready. His physician, a very sensitive man named Dr. Jeffries had ministered as much medicine as he could and as was practically possible. He realized that death was near and he chose to be a friend rather than a physician at that moment and he picked up an old rather well worn hymn book that Webster had often sung from and he chose to read the words of one of his favorite hymns:

"There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Immanuel's veins. And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains."

He read every stanza, when he got to the last, Webster's lips were moving, though no sound came:

"When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave, then in a nobler, sweeter song, I'll sing thy power to save. I'll sing thy power to save. I'll sing thy power to save."

And he looked at Webster, their eyes met, and Webster uttered 3 final words: Amen, Amen, Amen!