190 LAYS FROM ABOVE.
The fearful word to part,
Is never breathed above, Heaven hath no broken heart
Call me not hence, my love.
O, mother ! He is here
To whom my soul so grew, That when death's fatal spear Stretched him upon his bier,
I fain must follow too ! His smile my infant griefs restrained
His image in my childish dream And o'er my young affections reigned,
With gratitude unuttered and supreme. But yet till these refulgent skies burst forth in radiant glow, I know not half the unmeasured debt a daughter's heart
doth owe.
Ask ye, if still his heart retains its ardent glow P Ask ye, if filial love Unbodied spirits prove ?
'Tis but a little space, and thou shalt rise to know. I bend to sooth thy woes,
How near thou canst not see I watch thy lone repose,
Alice doth comfort thee ; To welcome thee I wait blest mother ! come to me.
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