Her sparkling eyes and blooming cheeks
Withered like the rose and died;
The arms that once embraced me round
Lie mould’ring under the cold ground.
But death, grim death, did not stop here;
I had one child, to me most dear;
He, like a vulture, came again
And took from me my little Jane.
But, bless the Lord, his word is given,
Declaring babes are heirs of heaven.