96
A LITTLE CHILD'S MONUMENT.
To these fair children for a while.
Dear Father, these are very fair!
Lovely in all their ways,
Whose every breathing is a prayer,
And all their motion praise.
Then a gleam steals o'er the snow
Of my low-responding breast,
Even as a faint afterglow
Dawns in the ever-faded west.
And so God gives all babes to me,
In place of Baby who is gone;
Yet ah! the whole fair human family
Weighs lighter than my little one!
