Her little sisters knelt with her in prayer,
And nightly did her father’s blessing share;
So, wrapt in glad imaginings, her life
Stole on with all her sweet young memories rife.
I often think (if by this mortal light
We e’er can read another’s lot aright),
That for her loving heart a blessing came,
Unseen by many, clouded by a name;
And all the outward fading from the world
Was like the flower at night, when it has furled