O MY PRECIOUS LITTLE GEM.

FOR A FATHERLESS CHILD.

O my precious little gem,
While I hold thee to my breast,
May some heav'n inspiring dream
Soothe thy spirit into rest.

But thy mother's heart is riv'n,
Bitter anguish she must feel;
Nothing but the balm of heav'n,
Can her wounded spirit heal.

Dark the night and dread the hour
When thy father lay so low;
When he felt the monster's pow'r,
Who could tell thy mother's woe!

But, thou image of his love,
May'st in heav'n thy father see;
Ere his spirit soar'd above
'Twas his latest pray'r for thee.