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A DEAD BABY.
God send her bliss, and send me rest!
If her white footsteps calm
Should track my bleeding feet, God make
To them each blood-drop balm!
Peace—peace. O mother, put thou forth
Thine elder, holier claim,
And the first word I hear in heaven
May be my Christian name.
If her white footsteps calm
Should track my bleeding feet, God make
To them each blood-drop balm!
Peace—peace. O mother, put thou forth
Thine elder, holier claim,
And the first word I hear in heaven
May be my Christian name.
A DEAD BABY.
ITTLE soul, for such brief space that entered In this little body straight and chilly,
Little life that fluttered and departed,
Like a moth from an unopened lily,
Little being, without name or nation,
Where is now thy place among creation?
Little dark-lashed eyes, unclosed never,
Little mouth, by earthly food ne'er tainted,
Little breast, that just once heaved, and settled
In eternal slumber, white and sainted,—
Child, shall I in future children's faces
See some pretty look that thine retraces?
Little mouth, by earthly food ne'er tainted,
Little breast, that just once heaved, and settled
In eternal slumber, white and sainted,—
Child, shall I in future children's faces
See some pretty look that thine retraces?
