My dearly beloved if I am to die today and never see the sweet

The words of Wild Bill Hickok fall upon the heart like a testament carved in the dust of the frontier: “My dearly beloved if I am to die today and never see the sweet face of you I want you to know that I am no great man and am lucky to have such a woman as you.” In this confession, uttered by a man famed for his skill with the gun and his fearlessness in the lawless West, we see not the gunslinger, but the human soul laid bare. Beneath the legend of Hickok beats the simple truth of love’s humility: in the presence of the beloved, even the strong man feels small, and counts himself blessed rather than mighty.

This quote finds its origin in a letter written near the time of Hickok’s death in 1876, when danger pressed close and mortality shadowed every step. In those days, when life could be lost in an instant, men and women often left behind words that would outlive their breath. Hickok, knowing his life could end suddenly, turned his thoughts not to fame, not to wealth, not to the tally of his deeds, but to the woman he loved. His final legacy was not the roar of his revolver, but the quiet tenderness of gratitude and devotion.

The ancients knew this same truth. Great warriors of old, from Achilles to Hector, from Roman generals to wandering knights, were remembered not only for their conquests but for their confessions of love. Hector, before the walls of Troy, turned to Andromache and revealed that his true fear was not death, but leaving her behind. In Hickok’s words, we hear the same melody: the warrior who admits that love is greater than his own glory, and that his truest honor lies in the embrace of his beloved.

There is deep humility in the line: “I am no great man.” This is no false modesty, for Hickok was celebrated in his time as a hero, a lawman, and a legend of the West. Yet before the woman he cherished, he confessed that greatness was not his to claim. Love strips away illusions of grandeur, showing the heart that what matters most is not the battles won, but the bonds kept. In the eyes of the beloved, a man’s worth is measured not by his fame, but by his fidelity, his tenderness, his willingness to cherish.

And then, the jewel of his words: “I am lucky to have such a woman as you.” This is the essence of gratitude in love. He does not claim her as possession, nor boast of deserving her; instead, he marvels at his fortune. The ancients taught that fortune is a goddess who favors whom she will, and Hickok recognized that in love, as in battle, the greatest treasures are given, not earned. To see love as gift, not entitlement, is the highest form of reverence.

The lesson is clear: in the face of mortality, all illusions fall away, and what remains is love. Riches vanish, fame fades, and strength declines, but the memory of the beloved endures, sweeter than life itself. If even a man such as Wild Bill Hickok, famed for courage and feared by foes, could confess that his true greatness lay only in the blessing of love, then so must we recognize that love is the one crown worth wearing.

Therefore, let all who hear take action: live not as though your worth is measured by power or achievement, but by the love you give and the gratitude you hold. Speak your devotion openly, as Hickok did, for time is short and tomorrow is never promised. Tell your beloved that they are your treasure, and do not let pride withhold the words. For in the end, the only immortality that matters is to be remembered by one heart as faithful, devoted, and true.

Thus the voice of Wild Bill Hickok endures across time, echoing like a hymn of the frontier: “I am no great man, but I am lucky to have loved you.” May we too live with such humility, and may we too count love as the highest fortune under heaven.