 | The American common-place book of poetry |  |
Death of an Infant.—Mrs. Sigourney.
Death found strange beauty on that cherub brow,And dashed it out. There was a tint of rose
On cheek and lip;—he touched the veins with ice,
And the rose faded. Forth from those blue eyes
There spake a wishful tenderness,—a doubt
Whether to grieve or sleep, which innocence
Alone can wear. With ruthless haste, he bound
The silken fringes of their curtaining lids
Forever. There had been a murmuring sound,
With which the babe would claim its mother's ear,
Charming her even to tears. The spoiler set
His seal of silence. But there beamed a smile
So fixed and holy from that marble brow,—
Death gazed, and left it there;—he dared not steal
The signet-ring of Heaven.
| The American common-place book of poetry | |