Rosemary and Pansies/On the Death of a Child
ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD
Thou cam'st to us a precious gift— Which we with joy received, And all our sorrows and our joys With thine were interweaved.
Still with thy growth our love increased, And still we watched with pride Thy body and thy mind expand— Oh! that thou shouldst have died!
We knew we loved thee much, but yet How much we could not tell, Till brimming eyes and deep-drawn sighs Informed us all too well.
Thy tender childish prattle still Doth echo in our ears; Oh! never more shall voice so sweet Awake our smiles or tears.
"Mother, I want to sleep," thou saidst, Ev'n with thy latest breath; Alas! that sleep we could not give Was given to thee by death!
Calmly thou sleepest now, but we Whose hearts to breaking swell, Must ever weep at thought of thee— Farewell! dear lamb, farewell!
October 4, 1877