And thinking of that stricken one,
Who weeps to-day a double loss,
Who sees a darkness o'er the sun
Made by her overshadowing cross--
And thinking how her poor arms ache--
I shed some tears for her sad sake.
Yet in the perfect pure sunlight--
In flowers of beauty and perfume,
I think God puts these souls so white,
And gives them back to us in bloom.
'Tis thus we have the light and flowers,
By yielding up these buds of ours.
In every golden, burnished ray,
In every sweet unfolding leaf,
Sad mother, you may find to-day
Some little solace in your grief.
God lets them comfort you this wise,
Until you join them in the skies.
[IN MEMORY OF CHARLIE SPAULDING.]
Aged 6 years and 5 months; died July 4, 1875.
With eyes that scarce can see for tears,
We look back o'er the little space
Of baby Charlie's life. Six years
Since first we looked upon his face.
Six years since from the angel band
Our little cherub strayed away.
We did not know or understand
He was but lent, and could not stay.
We looked into his lovely eyes,
So large, so soulful, and so deep,
And knew he came from God's own skies,
And thought that he was ours to keep.
But angels missed him 'round the Throne
And ere his earthly years were seven,
Christ called him, leaving us alone,
To turn our sorrowing hearts to Heaven.
For now, no matter what may come,
Wealth, fortune, honors, earthly bliss,
No place can seem to us like home,
Hereafter save where Charlie is.