Poems (Barker)/To Mr. and Mrs. G. W. Cummings

by Alice J. Green Barker

In Memory.
To Mr. and Mrs. G. W. Cummings.

Nature's tears with yours are falling
 O'er this fragile little flower,
O'er this little pain-racked body,
 Freed at last from suffering's power.
Darker grow the shadows round you,
 Deeper sinks the cruel pain,
While you bear your darling baby
 Through the swiftly falling rain.

Look up, mother, gentle mother,
 Lift your aching, tear-wet eyes.
See the Heavenly gates wide open,
 Hear the songs of Paradise.
Heavy-hearted grief-bowed father,
 Turn you from this open grave,
On your Savior's gentle bosom
 Lies the babe you could not save.

Little hands whose tiny fingers
 Twined about your very life,
Folded softly on the bosom
 That shall know no more of strife.
Little eyes that looked the love-light
 They as yet could never tell,
Shall grow brighter in that country
 Where your babe has gone to dwell.

Little lips, whose tender kisses
 On your faces linger yet,
Soon shall learn your names to murmur,
 For your babe will not forget.
All the tender love you lavished
 Into brightest flowers will bloom,
Even earth will be the better
 For their beauty and perfume.