ON AN INFANT'S GRAVE.
1847.
With low hushed step, approach the spot
Where infant loveliness lies sleeping,
And innocence, that slumbers not,
But lives again in angel keeping.
With low hushed step, approach the spot
Where infant loveliness lies sleeping,
And innocence, that slumbers not,
But lives again in angel keeping.
No word of sorrow greets the ear,
No sigh can reach the silent dead,
No look of love can enter here,
But fears will rest on that lone bed.
No sigh can reach the silent dead,
No look of love can enter here,
But fears will rest on that lone bed.
Ay, weep, thou mother! for each tear
Tells of the worship of thy boy;
And thou dost well to linger near
The last home of thine earthly joy.
Tells of the worship of thy boy;
And thou dost well to linger near
The last home of thine earthly joy.
Oh! plant sweet flowers on that young grave:
Spring blossoms—there is one lies here;
In infant purity it died,
Though sunned by smiles, and watered by a tear.
Spring blossoms—there is one lies here;
In infant purity it died,
Though sunned by smiles, and watered by a tear.
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