Poems (Curwen)/Baby Sleeps
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Baby Sleeps.
The baby sleeps,
Not upon his mother's breast,
That was slumber, this is rest—
But mother weeps.
Not upon his mother's breast,
That was slumber, this is rest—
But mother weeps.
For baby lies
In his little snowy dress,
Mute, and white, and motionless,
With sightless eyes.
In his little snowy dress,
Mute, and white, and motionless,
With sightless eyes.
And mother's head
In silent agony is bowed
O'er her little nurseling's shroud—
For baby's dead.
In silent agony is bowed
O'er her little nurseling's shroud—
For baby's dead.
"Sweet life!" cried Love,
While baby lay, worn with pain—
"Yield not to death, strive yet again"—
And while they strove
While baby lay, worn with pain—
"Yield not to death, strive yet again"—
And while they strove
A shining one
Came from the Celestial land,
Saying, in tones of sweet command,
"Give me thy son."
Came from the Celestial land,
Saying, in tones of sweet command,
"Give me thy son."
And mother gave
The life so precious unto her.
Now angels guard her treasure where
There is no grave.
The life so precious unto her.
Now angels guard her treasure where
There is no grave.