But ’tis not all!
For when we leave this earthly clay
To higher life we soar away.
THE BABE’S MISSION.
Upon its mother’s breast a babe lay sleeping;
While tears of bitter anguish she was weeping;
The while her lonely vigil she was keeping.
’Twas but a few brief years, since she a youthful bride,
Had pledged her troth to one, who, at the altar side,
Promised to love and cherish, till death should divide.