Crossing Over to the Other Side

I have a rendezvous with Death,
In days I hope will come,
Ere youth has sped, I'm at my best,
Ere voices sweet grow numb.
.
Sure some would cry it's down a long lane,
To crown their days with sleep,
Than face the road, the wind and rain,
To heed the calling deep.

Though wet nor blow nor space I fear,
Yet fear I deeply, do,
Lest Death should meet and claim me ere
I'll keep it's rendezvous