146
Vain grief—I gaze upon the tomb
Where all thy early virtues sleep;
Then muse upon thy heavenly home,
And envy thee, and cease to weep.
Where all thy early virtues sleep;
Then muse upon thy heavenly home,
And envy thee, and cease to weep.
LINES,
SUPPOSED TO BE ADDRESSED BY A LITTLE GIRL TO HER MOTHER.
Mother! do not mourn for me,
Do not pour such anguished tears:
I am happy—I am free
From the toil of mortal years.
Do not pour such anguished tears:
I am happy—I am free
From the toil of mortal years.
Some sweet seasons did I rest
On thy bosom—now I fly
Through the regions of the blest,
And my angel pinion try.
On thy bosom—now I fly
Through the regions of the blest,
And my angel pinion try.
