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ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD
Thou cam'st to us a precious gift—
Which we with joy received,
And all our sorrows and our joys
With thine were interweaved.
Which we with joy received,
And all our sorrows and our joys
With thine were interweaved.
Still with thy growth our love increased,
And still we watched with pride
Thy body and thy mind expand—
Oh! that thou shouldst have died!
And still we watched with pride
Thy body and thy mind expand—
Oh! that thou shouldst have died!
We knew we loved thee much, but yet
How much we could not tell,
Till brimming eyes and deep-drawn sighs
Informed us all too well.
How much we could not tell,
Till brimming eyes and deep-drawn sighs
Informed us all too well.
Thy tender childish prattle still
Doth echo in our ears;
Oh! never more shall voice so sweet
Awake our smiles or tears.
Doth echo in our ears;
Oh! never more shall voice so sweet
Awake our smiles or tears.
"Mother, I want to sleep," thou saidst,
Ev'n with thy latest breath;
Alas! that sleep we could not give
Was given to thee by death!
Ev'n with thy latest breath;
Alas! that sleep we could not give
Was given to thee by death!
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