Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/77

His angel image into my fond heart,
And fix its beauty there. And now—oh! now,
Never again the laughter of his eye
Shall send its gladd'ning summer through my soul—
Never on earth again. Yet, yet delay!
Thou canst not take him from me.

Husband.My belov'd!
Is it not God hath taken him? the God
That took our first-born, o'er whose early grave
Thou didst bow down thy saint-like head, and say,
"His will be done!"

Agnes.Oh! that near household grave,
Under the turf of England, seem'd not half,
Not half so much to part me from my child
As these dark woods. It lay beside our home,
And I could watch the sunshine, through all hours,
Loving and clinging to the grassy spot,
And I could dress its greensward with fresh flowers—
Familiar, meadow flowers. O'er thee my babe,
The primrose will not blossom! Oh! that now,