 | The miscellaneous essays and occasional writings of Francis Hopkinson, Esq |  |
73
An EPITAPH.
For AN Infant.
Sleep on, sweet babe! no dreams annoy thy rest,Thy spirit flew unsullied from thy breast:
Sleep on, sweet innocent! nor shalt thou dread
The passing storm that thunders o'er thy head:
Thro' the bright regions of yon azure sky,
A winged seraph, now she soars on high;
Or, on the bosom of a cloud reclin'd,
She rides triumphant on the rapid wind;
Or from its source pursues the radiant day;
Or on a sun-beam, smoothly glides away;
Or mounts aerial, to her blest abode,
And sings, inspir'd, the praises of her God:
Unveiled, thence, to her extensive eye,
Nature, and Nature's Laws, expanded lie:
Death, in one moment, taught this infant more
Than years or ages ever taught before.
| The miscellaneous essays and occasional writings of Francis Hopkinson, Esq | |