And its face was white as its shroud.
“Then they slowly lowered it into the ground,
While the pebbles down after it slid;
And, mother, I still can hear the sound
Of the gravel upon the lid!
“Asleep or awake I hear it fall,
And it’s grown to a pleasant noise;
It seems like a loving angel’s call—
And I must obey the voice!”
Thus spoke the child—And the Sabbath calm