26. It is a joyful thing to die.
(A dialogue between two children.)
Brother.
It is a joyful thing to die;
For though this world is fair,
I dream I see a lovelier one,
And fancy I am there.
Methinks that I am borne away
As soon as I have died;
And wander round a pleasant place,
With an angel by my side.
To that bright world I long to go,
I would not linger here;
Except for gentle mother's sake,
And yours, my sister dear.
But when I read my book to her,
And when I play with you,
I quite forget that glorious land,
And blessed Angel too.
Yet oft, when I am wearied grown
Of reading and of play,
These pleasant dreams come back again
And steal my heart away.
And then again I seem to wish,
That mother, you, and I
Could shut our eyes upon the world,
And all together die.
Sister.
Ah, brother! if indeed it be
