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No marvel that our world-stained hearts
Should almost shrink with fear,
And feel a holy thing like this,
Brings Heaven itself more near.
Should almost shrink with fear,
And feel a holy thing like this,
Brings Heaven itself more near.
Ah, there! how sweet the transient smile
That flits o'er lip and brow!
Fain would I know, my precious one!
The thoughts that bless thee now.
Oh, who can tell what glorious sights
Such sinless eyes may see;
How slight to them the veil that shrouds
Eternal things may be?
That flits o'er lip and brow!
Fain would I know, my precious one!
The thoughts that bless thee now.
Oh, who can tell what glorious sights
Such sinless eyes may see;
How slight to them the veil that shrouds
Eternal things may be?
'Tis said, that village matrons deem,
A babe's unconscious eyes
Behold, in dreams, its future path
Like some dim vision rise:
But lovelier far the legend seems,
Of mine own native isle,
That angel voices whisper near,
When sleeping infants smile.
A babe's unconscious eyes
Behold, in dreams, its future path
Like some dim vision rise:
But lovelier far the legend seems,
Of mine own native isle,
That angel voices whisper near,
When sleeping infants smile.
Yes; sweet the dream: perchance e'en now
They fan thee with their wings,
While softly on thy slumbering ear
Unearthly music rings.
And oh, how far more blest to know,
That in Heaven's highest place,
The angels of these little ones
Behold their Father's face.
They fan thee with their wings,
While softly on thy slumbering ear
Unearthly music rings.
And oh, how far more blest to know,
That in Heaven's highest place,
The angels of these little ones
Behold their Father's face.
