In the vain hope to save the dear young life
To which the tendrils of her own were bound.
With one wild pressure of thy little form
To my sad bosom, with a frantic kiss
Upon thy pallid lips, and a hot tear
Wrung from a burning brain, I said farewell—
Alas! my child, I never saw thee more.
In a strange land, far from thy own dear home,
But with the holy ministries of love
Around thy couch, thy little being passed,