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THE BROKEN FLOWER.
CHART CHURCH, AUGUST 13, 1865.
E must not mourn for thee, my broken flower!Purer and dearer than earth's fairest bloom,
Nor weep to think, how brief thy fleeting hour
Of hope and joy,—a cradle and a tomb.
Ah no! for ere one shade of faintest gloom
Had dimmed the light of young love's cloudless day,
The darkness came; our darling passed away,
And we are left to mourn her early doom.
But not with bitter tears; for far above
All earthly hopes, around the Cross, had twined
Her helpless heart, in trustfulness and love;
And now, all sin and sorrow left behind,
Safe on her Saviour's breast, she waits to see
Her loved ones come. Oh, Darling! who could weep for thee?
E.
