VI
So on we speed; now fast, now slow;
By isle and rift and eddy
Until at length along we flow
With movement firm and steady;
And low and lower lie the hills,
And wider spreads the vale,
And soft the Captain's calling trills
Upon the evening gale:
Rest, lads, rest!—our work is done—
The danger's o'er!
Rest, lads, rest!—another sun
Will see a haven safely won
By Trenton's friendly shore.
[A Child's Elegy]
e know her not whom once we knew,
Who died it seems e'er death was due—
We know her not; she is asleep;
Our hearts are dumb—we can but weep
That one so young must bid adieu,
Must part so soon from earthly view.
Those tender feet we knew so late
We hear no more; we can but wait
To hear them in the House of God
When dust to dust we tread the sod,
For in that home of homes they wait
For us beside the city's gate.
Those little hands out-held in love,
That in such innocence did move
To fondle each familiar face
Are still—they cannot now embrace
As once they did so like a dove
That weary parents would approve.
Those little lips that met our own
So sweetly when we were alone
No more shall meet the lips of earth,
Sealed up unto another birth;
But when these larger lives have flown
Our lips will meet; she will be known.