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POEMS.
Sleep, calmly sleep, our own dear little daughter;
It seems but yesterday beneath the sod,
In all humility and love, we brought her,
To give her back with many tears to God.
It seems but yesterday beneath the sod,
In all humility and love, we brought her,
To give her back with many tears to God.
Rest thee, awhile; around thee hearts are weeping,
And souls grow weary, for the way seems long,
Ere they too rest in God's most holy keeping,
And sing above His angels' deathless song.
And souls grow weary, for the way seems long,
Ere they too rest in God's most holy keeping,
And sing above His angels' deathless song.
"He giveth His beloved sleep," and slowly
Over the tired eyes and stricken breast,
Like summer dew, His peace falls pure and holy,
And lulls them gently to their long, last rest.
Over the tired eyes and stricken breast,
Like summer dew, His peace falls pure and holy,
And lulls them gently to their long, last rest.
A little grave! O spirits, bright and glorious,
Bear up to Heaven these little ones of ours;
Bear them to Christ, triumphant and victorious,
To bloom in Paradise 'mid fadeless flowers.
Bear up to Heaven these little ones of ours;
Bear them to Christ, triumphant and victorious,
To bloom in Paradise 'mid fadeless flowers.
DE PROFUNDIS.
LORD! if it be Thy will that she must die,
She whom to me is as the radiant sun,
The one pure spot of azure in my sky,
Help me to say, "Thy will, not mine, be done."
She whom to me is as the radiant sun,
The one pure spot of azure in my sky,
Help me to say, "Thy will, not mine, be done."
Teach me to bless the hand that holds the rod,
To bow my head as meekly as I may,
Help me to see the right is Thine, O God,
To give or keep, to grant or take away.
To bow my head as meekly as I may,
Help me to see the right is Thine, O God,
To give or keep, to grant or take away.
