I took my child upon my knee;
It looked up with its father's eyes,
Who, ere the infant came to me,
Had journeyed homeward to the skies,
But through These eyes, so sad and mild,
I found my husband, in my child.
It was such comfort, night and day,
To watch its slumber,--feel its breath--
And slow--so slow--it pined away,
I heard not the approach of Death
Until he stood close at my side,
And then my soul within me died.
I clasped my babe with sudden moan,
I cried, "My sweet, thou shalt not go
To join the children round the Throne,
For I have need of thee below.
If God takes thee, I am bereft--
No hope or joy or comfort left."
My babe looked pleading in my face,
It seemed my husband's eyes instead,
And his voice sounded in the place,
"I want my child in heaven," it said.
The infant raised its little hands,
And seemed to reach toward heavenly lands.
The tears that had refused to flow
Came welling upward from my heart,
I sobbed, "My child, then thou may'st go,
Thy angel father bids us part.
I know in all that heavenly place
He ne'er looked on so sweet a face.
"He journeyed on, before thou came--
And all these months, he's longed for thee,
How could I so forget his claim--
And strive to keep thee at my knee.
Go, child--my child--and give him this--
In one the wife's and mother's kiss."
My baby smiled, and seeming slept,
Its hand grew cold within my own.
Not wholly sad the tears I wept
For though I was indeed alone
My babe I knew was safe at rest.
Upon its angel father's breast.
[IN FAITH.]
When the soft sweet wind o' the south went by,
I dwelt in the light of a dark brown eye;
And out where the robin sang his song,
We lived and loved, while the days were long.
In the sweet, sweet eves, when the moon swung high,
We wandered under the starry sky;
Or sat in the porch, and the moon looked through
The latticed wall, where the roses grew.