the baptism.
11
When sighs and when mourning in joy shall be hushed,
And sorrow's last fountain of tears shall have gushed,
Our home shall be heaven, my own little Kathleen,
Sweet Kathleen O'More!
And sorrow's last fountain of tears shall have gushed,
Our home shall be heaven, my own little Kathleen,
Sweet Kathleen O'More!
THE BAPTISM.
She stands before her Maker's throne, with spirit fixed above,
Where springs Faith's living fount, to lead that holy gift of love;
With fervent prayer and tuneful strain proceeds the simple rite,
That, to his Master's gathering band, her infant shall unite.
Where springs Faith's living fount, to lead that holy gift of love;
With fervent prayer and tuneful strain proceeds the simple rite,
That, to his Master's gathering band, her infant shall unite.
What gushing prayers to Heaven ascend from that fond mother's heart,
That his young soul from holiness and truth may ne'er depart;
But, all unstained as early dew,to God and truth be given,
A spotless sacrifice to glow upon the shrine of heaven.
That his young soul from holiness and truth may ne'er depart;
But, all unstained as early dew,to God and truth be given,
A spotless sacrifice to glow upon the shrine of heaven.
Yes, as the sacred waters fall upon his fearless head,
What thrilling thoughts, what holy hopes, o'er his young heart are shed!
What thrilling thoughts, what holy hopes, o'er his young heart are shed!
