the summons of death.
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THE SUMMONS OF DEATH.
Infant, On whose snowy brow
All is pure and stainless now,
In whose heart the fount of love
Hath its spring in heaven above,
Earth is no meet home for thee;
Thou its threatening ills shouldst flee.
Haste, haste away!
All is pure and stainless now,
In whose heart the fount of love
Hath its spring in heaven above,
Earth is no meet home for thee;
Thou its threatening ills shouldst flee.
Haste, haste away!
Child, thy path is bright with flowers;
Joyous are thy sunny hours;
Thou must leave thy mirth and play,
For a purer, brighter day:
I have called, and thou must roam
Far from kindred, friends, and home.
Haste, haste away!
Joyous are thy sunny hours;
Thou must leave thy mirth and play,
For a purer, brighter day:
I have called, and thou must roam
Far from kindred, friends, and home.
Haste, haste away!
Maiden, with thy step so light,
And thy brow so calm and bright,
Thou earth's sunny bowers must leave,—
Fate a darker web must weave;
Thou my gathering ranks must swell,—
Thou my triumph hour must tell.
Haste, haste away!
And thy brow so calm and bright,
Thou earth's sunny bowers must leave,—
Fate a darker web must weave;
Thou my gathering ranks must swell,—
Thou my triumph hour must tell.
Haste, haste away!
Beauty, peerless in thy grace,
Smiles are wreathing now thy face:
Dost thou not existence deem
Lovely as thine own bright dream?
Smiles are wreathing now thy face:
Dost thou not existence deem
Lovely as thine own bright dream?
