 | The lost pleiad ; and other poems |  |
TO MY FIRST-BORN IN HEAVEN.
“Yes, Heaven is thine!”—
Poe.
Poe.
Where art thou, Florence? thou, my earliest born!
Where is thy soul, my darling little child?
Was not thy body here the other morn?
And now thou art in Heaven, my undefiled!
But I am one year nearer unto thee,
Since thou hast been twelve months away from me!
Where is thy soul, my darling little child?
Was not thy body here the other morn?
And now thou art in Heaven, my undefiled!
But I am one year nearer unto thee,
Since thou hast been twelve months away from me!
As thou canst not return again to me,
Before I shall behold thy glorious face,
I must ascend from this dark world to thee,
And meet thee in that heavenly dwelling-place,
Where thou art waiting now for me in bliss,
To make that world what thou didst once make this.
Before I shall behold thy glorious face,
I must ascend from this dark world to thee,
And meet thee in that heavenly dwelling-place,
Where thou art waiting now for me in bliss,
To make that world what thou didst once make this.
Oh! that the hour would come—that I could be
This moment lifted from this vale of tears—
As when God's Angel took thee up from me—
(Which thou didst once make Heaven for three short years)—
Then would I see thee, glorious as thou art,
And in God's bosom press thee to my heart!
This moment lifted from this vale of tears—
As when God's Angel took thee up from me—
(Which thou didst once make Heaven for three short years)—
Then would I see thee, glorious as thou art,
And in God's bosom press thee to my heart!
Oaky Grove, Ga., Dec. 10th, 1843.
| The lost pleiad ; and other poems | |