Poems (Douglas)/On seeing a Dead Child
On Seeing a Dead Child.
I saw a sweet and lovely child, Pale, pale, upon a couch she lay,Round her were strew'd flow'rs fresh and wild, And yet she seem'd more fair than they;Although her brow felt cold and chill,Her face wore beauty's freshness still.
It might be thought an angel slept, Her features seemed so heavenly fair;The sweet smile that in life she kept, In cherub softness linger'd there,And such a life-like radiance shedO'er the mild features of the dead.
And can it be, I musing thought, Whilst gazing on the beauteous clay,That, ere the blue eye closed, it caught A glimpse of those who bore awayThe soul, and that last smile was given,To greet the messengers of heaven?