Lamentation

(WALTER AND FREDDIE.)     From morn to eve, from evening unto morning,         I mourn and cannot rest;     So mourns the mother bird when home returning         She finds an empty nest.     I mourn the little children of my dwelling,         That are forever gone,     Sorrows that mothers feel my heart is swelling,         And so I make my moan.     One little blossom on my bosom faded,         And passed from me away,     But near my door the drooping willows shaded         My little boys at play     My boys that came with flying feet to meet me,         And questions wondrous wise,     And bits of news which they had brought to greet me,         And see my glad surprise     Bitter for sweet no human hand can alter         Nor bid one sorrow pass,     With sudden stroke our darling little Walter         Was laid beneath the grass     Ah then it was to me an added sorrow,         To hear his brother moan,     Where's little Walter, will he come to morrow         I cannot play alone?     The summons for the child had come already         Which said I must resign     The best beloved, the precious little Freddie,         To other arms than mine     How still and lone are the familiar places         Where little pattering feet     Made music for me, and I saw bright faces         Dimple with laughter sweet     My arms are empty that woold fain be folding         My lost ones to my breast,     But well I know, the Father's face beholding,         They are forever blest.     From Christ's dear words my bleeding heart would gather         At length submissive grace,--     He says that in the kingdom of His Father,         They still behold His face.     In the bright garden of the Lord they're staying,         Amid the angels fair;     And heavenly whispers to my heart are saying--         Look up, your treasure's there.