 | The Pleasures and other Miscellaneous Poems |  |
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LINES Occasioned by the death of my infant daughter, Julia Ann Payne, July 12, 1848. Aged 9 months, 6 days, 5 hours.
Another painful blow is struck,
The golden chain again is riv'n,
The link which bound my heart to earth
Is broke, and fasten'd now to heav'n.
The golden chain again is riv'n,
The link which bound my heart to earth
Is broke, and fasten'd now to heav'n.
Behold! my cherub child is gone!
On wings, whose plumes are beams of light,
Through yon blue sky my babe has flown
With angels fair and seraphs bright.
On wings, whose plumes are beams of light,
Through yon blue sky my babe has flown
With angels fair and seraphs bright.
They came at the eve of the day,
When the sheen of the sun is mild,
In cars of light they bore away
My beauteous daughter—cherub child!
When the sheen of the sun is mild,
In cars of light they bore away
My beauteous daughter—cherub child!
But she blooms in a brighter clime,
Where all is pure and sweet and green,
Where dark disease and storms of time
Are neither felt, nor heard, nor seen.
Where all is pure and sweet and green,
Where dark disease and storms of time
Are neither felt, nor heard, nor seen.
I mourn not for thee, sweetest one;
Thou wert loan'd, but never wert giv'n—
Bright gem from the land of the sun,
Go shine 'midst the jewels of heav'n!
Thou wert loan'd, but never wert giv'n—
Bright gem from the land of the sun,
Go shine 'midst the jewels of heav'n!
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Thine eyes were like planets of light,
Thy locks like the raven's dark plume—
Like sumbeams that gleam'd on the sight,
Thou art lost in the star-spangled dome.
Thy locks like the raven's dark plume—
Like sumbeams that gleam'd on the sight,
Thou art lost in the star-spangled dome.
A vision of beauty she seem'd,
Where Love had breath'd her sweetest soul,
An angel! such as oft I dream'd
Was sent my spirit to console.
Where Love had breath'd her sweetest soul,
An angel! such as oft I dream'd
Was sent my spirit to console.
As sweet as the love-speaking rose,
So sweet were thy blushes given:
Thy forehead, thy lips and thy nose
Were form'd like an angel of heaven.
So sweet were thy blushes given:
Thy forehead, thy lips and thy nose
Were form'd like an angel of heaven.
O, thou wert too sweet for this earth,
Too sweet in its darkness to stay;
Too sweet for its sorrows or mirth—
Away then, my cherub, away!
Too sweet in its darkness to stay;
Too sweet for its sorrows or mirth—
Away then, my cherub, away!
Away to the Eden on high!
Away to thy Saviour and Lord!
Away to thy home in the sky!
Away to the bosom of God!
Away to thy Saviour and Lord!
Away to thy home in the sky!
Away to the bosom of God!
There deck thy brows with starry flow'rs;
There kiss the one who gave thee birth;
There roam in ever-blooming bow'rs;
There drink from nectar'd streams of mirth.
There kiss the one who gave thee birth;
There roam in ever-blooming bow'rs;
There drink from nectar'd streams of mirth.
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And O! when this short life is o'er;
When this frail form is laid in dust;
Swift up to heav'n my soul shall soar
To meet thee!—angel child—I must!
When this frail form is laid in dust;
Swift up to heav'n my soul shall soar
To meet thee!—angel child—I must!
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