POEMS.
119
Sweet garnered mind that blossomed like the rose
'Neath sun and shower, itself its best repose.
'Neath sun and shower, itself its best repose.
Poor souls that grieve and grieve, and eyes that weep
For such a loss, look up beyond the sod,
To her, "He giveth His beloved sleep,"
The pilgrim feet have reached their home and God.
For her the crown of joy and robes of white!
The beatific vision and the light!
For such a loss, look up beyond the sod,
To her, "He giveth His beloved sleep,"
The pilgrim feet have reached their home and God.
For her the crown of joy and robes of white!
The beatific vision and the light!
"OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN."
A LITTLE grave, within "God's acre" sleeping,
Sheltered amid dark trees of waving yew,
Left in the hands of God's most holy keeping,
Smiled on by Heaven's eternal sky of blue.
Sheltered amid dark trees of waving yew,
Left in the hands of God's most holy keeping,
Smiled on by Heaven's eternal sky of blue.
A little grave! a child's grave, where in sorrow,
We laid her down amid our tears and pain,
And now we wait in patience for that morrow
When we shall clasp our loved and lost again.
We laid her down amid our tears and pain,
And now we wait in patience for that morrow
When we shall clasp our loved and lost again.
A little grave! beneath, our little daughter
Is dreaming sweetly of angelic bliss.
So fast she slumbers that we ne'er would wake her,
Or wish her back again in world like this.
Is dreaming sweetly of angelic bliss.
So fast she slumbers that we ne'er would wake her,
Or wish her back again in world like this.
