588. C. M. H. Bacon.
Death of a Child.
1Thou gavest, and we yield to thee,
God of the human heart!
For bitter though grief's cup may be,
Thou givest but our part.
2O, thou canst bid our grief be stilled,
Yet not rebuke our tears;
How large a place his presence filled!
How vacant it appears!
3We mourn the sunshine of his smile,
The tendrils of his love;
Oh, was he loved too well the while
Ere he was called above?
4Our chastened spirits bow in prayer,
And blend all prayers in one,--
Give us the hope to meet him there,
When life's full task is done.