Page:Poems Brown.djvu/78

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72
poems.
Costly toys around lie scattered;
Simple dresses, small and white;
But the little one that wore them
Now hath vanished from their sight.

Soft the curtains cover over
Downy pillows pure and fair,
And upon the choicest tablet
Lies a curl of golden hair.

Yet there is no death! It is but waking
In the likeness of our God,
While the body may be resting
Silent 'neath the grass-green sod.

There is no death! It is but singing
Angel praises sweet and clear,
And on thrones of dazzling whiteness
Sit and sing forever there.

There is no death! 'Tis but transition,
Where angel praises, sweet and clear,
Ring round thrones of dazzling brightness,
From sweet lips of Seraph choir.