The Dead Child

All silent is the room,     There is no stir of breath,     Save mine, as in the gloom     I sit alone with Death.     Short life it had, the sweet,     Small babe here lying dead,     With tapers at its feet     And tapers at its head.     Dear little hands, too frail     Their grasp on life to hold;     Dear little mouth so pale,     So solemn, and so cold;     Small feet that nevermore     About the house shall run;     Thy little life is oer!     Thy little journey done!     Sweet infant, dead too soon,     Thou shalt no more behold     The face of sun or moon,     Or starlight clear and cold;     Nor know, where thou art gone,     The mournfulness and mirth     We know who dwell upon     This sad, glad, mad, old earth.     The foolish hopes and fond     That cheat us to the last     Thou shalt not feel; beyond     All these things thou hast passed.     The struggles that upraise     The soul by slow degrees     To God, through weary days,     Thou hast no part in these.     And at thy childish play     Shall we, O little one,     No more behold thee? Nay,     No more beneath the sun.     Deaths sword may well be bared     Gainst those grown old in strife,     But, ah! it might have spared     Thy little unlived life.     Why talk as in despair?     Just God, whose rod I kiss,     Did not make thee so fair     To end thy life at this.     There is some pleasant shore,     Far from His Heaven of Pride,     Where those strong souls who bore     His Cross in bliss abide.     Some place where feeble things,     For Lifes long war too weak,     Young birds with unfledged wings,     Buds nipped by storm-winds bleak,     Young lambs left all forlorn     Beneath a bitter sky,     Meek souls to sorrow born,     Find refuge when they die.     There day is one long dawn,     And from the cups of flowers     Light dew-filled clouds updrawn     Rain soft and perfumed showers.     Child Jesus walketh there     Amidst child-angel bands,     With smiling lips, and fair     White roses in His hands.     I kiss thee on the brow,     I kiss thee on the eyes,     Farewell! Thy home is now     The Childrens Paradise.