nora.
89
And listens, wonderingly, to the song
Of glorious seraphs who round her throng;
And perchance the soul of her brother found
Amid the cherubs who flock around.
Of glorious seraphs who round her throng;
And perchance the soul of her brother found
Amid the cherubs who flock around.
Silence reigns by the lonely hearth
That has lost the sweetest joy of earth;
And two sad hearts are bursting with grief
For theirs is a sorrow without relief,
For Nature, rebellious, turns from God,
And shrinks from kissing the cruel rod.
Smile! cherub faces, from out the gloom;
Point! baby fingers, beyond the tomb;
Beckon! O dear little hands, from above.
Whisper! sweet voices that God is Love—
"Our God is Love!"
That has lost the sweetest joy of earth;
And two sad hearts are bursting with grief
For theirs is a sorrow without relief,
For Nature, rebellious, turns from God,
And shrinks from kissing the cruel rod.
Smile! cherub faces, from out the gloom;
Point! baby fingers, beyond the tomb;
Beckon! O dear little hands, from above.
Whisper! sweet voices that God is Love—
"Our God is Love!"
Nora.
A little, loving, laughing sprite,
Her mother's torment and delight—
Her last born, too;
Her father's pride, the household pet—
Her sweet eyes matched the violet,
Her hair the sunbeams' hue.
Her mother's torment and delight—
Her last born, too;
Her father's pride, the household pet—
Her sweet eyes matched the violet,
Her hair the sunbeams' hue.
Such pretty winsome ways had she,
This little maid of summers three,
Whose voice was heard
Singing, singing all day long,
Snatches of some half-learnt song
Like a blithsome bird.
This little maid of summers three,
Whose voice was heard
Singing, singing all day long,
Snatches of some half-learnt song
Like a blithsome bird.
