33
SONNET
ON THE DEATH OF A LITTLE GIRL.
O early faded! while a mother's heart
Wove the fond visions of thy future years,
And felt the dawn of thy young life impart
A thousand hopes—a thousand tender fears.
Now the pale smile of death thy beauty wears,
And she must yield thee to the silent grave,
While o'er thee fall affection's lingering tears,
And the cold weeds above her loved one wave.
Yet art thou blest, and smiling far above
Their weeping gaze, in the eternal bowers,
One of the rarest and the loveliest flowers,
Thou bloomest on, all innocence and love,
Musing that blissful dream, though now most blest,
When thou again shalt clasp a parent's breast.
Wove the fond visions of thy future years,
And felt the dawn of thy young life impart
A thousand hopes—a thousand tender fears.
Now the pale smile of death thy beauty wears,
And she must yield thee to the silent grave,
While o'er thee fall affection's lingering tears,
And the cold weeds above her loved one wave.
Yet art thou blest, and smiling far above
Their weeping gaze, in the eternal bowers,
One of the rarest and the loveliest flowers,
Thou bloomest on, all innocence and love,
Musing that blissful dream, though now most blest,
When thou again shalt clasp a parent's breast.
