When its fragrance is flung on the air,
So fresh and so bright to that mother he seem’d,
As he lay in his innocence there.
But I saw when she gazed on the same lovely form,
Pale as marble, and silent, and cold,
But paler and colder her beautiful boy,
And the tale of her sorrow was told!
But the Healer was there who had stricken her heart,
And taken her treasure away,
To allure her to Heaven he has placed it on high,