LORENCE, sweet Florence! sainted, suffering child,Our grievous loss is thy eternal gain;Thy little life was one long day of pain;But, by earth's lightest shadow undefiled,Baptismal drops still bright upon thy brow,Thy rest is won. From sin and sorrow free,We know that thou art safe for ever now;And weep, but for ourselves and not for thee.We miss thy sunny smiles and winning ways,The thousand charms that made thee more than dear;But though this cloud must shadow all our days,We would not if we could recall thee here;And only pray, when our last hour is come,Where all are such as thou, we too may find our home.
LORENCE, sweet Florence! sainted, suffering child, Our grievous loss is thy eternal gain; Thy little life was one long day of pain;But, by earth's lightest shadow undefiled,Baptismal drops still bright upon thy brow, Thy rest is won. From sin and sorrow free,We know that thou art safe for ever now; And weep, but for ourselves and not for thee.We miss thy sunny smiles and winning ways, The thousand charms that made thee more than dear;But though this cloud must shadow all our days, We would not if we could recall thee here;And only pray, when our last hour is come,Where all are such as thou, we too may find our home.
LORENCE, sweet Florence! sainted, suffering child, Our grievous loss is thy eternal gain; Thy little life was one long day of pain;But, by earth's lightest shadow undefiled,Baptismal drops still bright upon thy brow, Thy rest is won. From sin and sorrow free,We know that thou art safe for ever now; And weep, but for ourselves and not for thee.We miss thy sunny smiles and winning ways, The thousand charms that made thee more than dear;But though this cloud must shadow all our days, We would not if we could recall thee here;And only pray, when our last hour is come,Where all are such as thou, we too may find our home.