The Peep of Day

by Favell Lee Mortimer

I did not know it was before.

MAMMA.

’Tis true, my love, that you must die;

The God who made you says you must;

And every one of us shall lie,

Like the dear baby in the dust.

These hands, and feet, and busy head,

Shall waste and crumble quite away;

But though your body shall be dead,

There is a part which can’t decay.