Take the pillows from the cradle
Where the little sufferer lay;
Draw the curtain, close the shutters,
Shut out every beam of day.
Spread the pall upon the table,
Place the lifeless body there;
Back from off the marble features
Lay the auburn curls with care.
With its little blue-veined fingers
Crossed upon its sinless breast,
Free from care, and pain, and anguish,
Let the infant cherub rest.
Smooth its little shroud about it;
Pick the toys from off the floor;
They, with all their sparkling beauty
Ne'er can charm their owner more.
Take the little shoes and stockings
From the doting mother's sight;
Pattering feet no more will need them,
Walking in the fields of light.
Parents, faint and worn with watching
Through the long, dark night of grief,
Dry your tears and sooth your sighing--
Gain a respite of relief.
Mother, care is no more needed
To alley the rising moan,
And though you perchance may leave it,
It can never be alone.
Angels bright will watch beside it
In its quiet, holy slumber
Till the morning, then awake it
To a place among their number
Thus a golden link is broken
In the chain of earthly bliss,
Thus the distance shorter making
'Twixt the brighter world and this.
poet unknown.
