To E. S.
O heartstricken, sorrowing mother!
No words ever written or said
Can lessen the weight of your sorrow
Since the baby you love is dead.
But remember, O sorrowful mother
Thy heart should rejoice, not repine,
Since of all earth’s beautiful treasures
The Master has chosen thine.
The fairest, the brightest, the purest,
Find grace in His loving eyes
And the Lord hath chosen thy treasure
To beautify Paradise.
Dear baby hands that will never
Grow weary with earthly strife,
Sweet baby eyes that will never
Grow dim with the cares of life.
Wee feet that will never stumble
Over Life’s rugged way,
For the hands of angels now guide them
And they cannot go astray.
But a mother’s love is boundless
As the seas or the skies above,
And a mother’s heart grows jealous
E’en of the angels love.
