And, mother, now I’ll go to sleep.” Alas! poor little Jim!
She knew that he was dying; that the child she loved so dear
Had uttered the last words she might ever hope to hear:
The cottage door is opened, the collier’s step is heard,
The father and the mother meet, yet neither speak a word.
He felt that all was over, he knew his child was dead,
He took the candle in his hand and walked toward the bed;
His quivering lips gave token of the grief he’d fain conceal,
And see, his wife has joined him—the stricken couple kneel:
With hearts bowed down by sadness, they humbly ask of Him,