Yet onward, onward went the child
Without a thought of fear,
For the voice of the sweet angel
Still sounded in her ear.
And now the path is hidden
By branches bending low,
And, pausing there, she listens
To hear the waters flow;
And from the opening blossoms,
That smile beside her feet,
She twines, with ready fingers,
A wreath, for angel meet.
The deep and waveless river
Spread out before her lies,
And she sees the fair child angel
Look fondly in her eyes.
One cry of joy she utters,
Her arms extending wide
To clasp the lovely phantom
Beneath that treacherous tide.
Weep not, thou childless mother,
Above that beauteous clay,
For the voice of blessed angels
Has called the soul away.
Think, when thy lips are pressing
That pure and marble brow,
In heaven thy own child angel
Is living for thee now.