Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/On an Infant in Wisbeach Churchyard

On an Infant in Wisbeach Churchyard.

Beneath a sleeping infant lies;
To earth her body's lent;
More glorious she'll hereafter rise,
Though not more innocent.
When the Archangel's trump shall blow,
And souls to bodies join,
Millions will wish their lives below
Had been as short as thine.