TO MY DAUGHTER BLANCHE IN HEAVEN.
Died Jan. 4th, 1893, aged 11 years.
Darling of my bosom,
Pride of my loving heart,
Hopes were sorely shattered
When I saw your life depart;
In you I saw my future,
Cheered by your smile and voice,
Sorrow ceased its frowning,
My spirit would rejoice.
Life was made much brighter
By your presence sweet;
At your cheery coming
Heart-shadows would retreat;
Soulful songs with meanings
Beyond your years were sung;
To chords of sweetest rapture
Your heart-strings e'er were strung.
From out the realms of heav'n
Still you speak to me,
And fancy draws the curtain
That I your face may see;
Perhaps in the hereafter
I yet may fully know
The purpose of your going,
Your mission here below.
THE VOICE.
To me comes a voice that none other
Hath power to hear or to know,
Its cadence so sweet and consoling
Is a whisper so gentle and low,
That the flight of an angel might covet
The silence it bears in its tone;
It speaks to me often, to comfort
My heart when I sit all alone.
I oft close my eyes at the twilight
And that voice comes floating to me
Like the song of some fairy creature
That dwells in a pearl-lighted sea;
When the shades of midnight infold me
That voice lulls me gently to rest,
And tells me the time is not distant
When my spirit shall dwell as its guest.
When shadows of night are departing
And smiling Aurora appears,
That voice of sweet invitation
Falls soothingly into my ears;
A form that I fondly cherish
Like a vision of beauty I see,
That comes on an angelic mission
With counsel and solace for me.