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46
LITTLE CLARA.
I cannot smile, I cannot play;
I feel so lone,—so sad and lone!
I 've put our playthings all away;
For brother 's gone,—dear Willie 's gone!
I dreamed, last night, I saw and kissed him;
His eyes were starry bright!
But when I told how much I missed him,
He disappeared, as if by flight;
I could not see, so quick he vanished,
The way he took to pass from sight.
I feel so lone,—so sad and lone!
I 've put our playthings all away;
For brother 's gone,—dear Willie 's gone!
I dreamed, last night, I saw and kissed him;
His eyes were starry bright!
But when I told how much I missed him,
He disappeared, as if by flight;
I could not see, so quick he vanished,
The way he took to pass from sight.
They tell me angels softly came,
And bore him up from every ill;
And yet I think 't is where his name
Is on the stone he 's sleeping still.
I saw the deep, damp bed they made him,
And where I think he lies;
For there I saw they lowly laid him,
And watched, but did not see him rise.
Yet hot and fast my tears were streaming;
Perhaps 't was they deceived my eyes.
And bore him up from every ill;
And yet I think 't is where his name
Is on the stone he 's sleeping still.
I saw the deep, damp bed they made him,
And where I think he lies;
For there I saw they lowly laid him,
And watched, but did not see him rise.
Yet hot and fast my tears were streaming;
Perhaps 't was they deceived my eyes.
The precious flower he loved the best,
When we played round our garden-spot,
I 've taken up, and o'er his breast
I 've set the dear forget-me-not.
I know not if it there will flourish;
The turf is drear and wild;
And Clara's tears can never nourish
The flower that shone when Willie smiled!
But still I must hang, weeping, round it,
I'm such a sad and lonely child!
When we played round our garden-spot,
I 've taken up, and o'er his breast
I 've set the dear forget-me-not.
I know not if it there will flourish;
The turf is drear and wild;
47
The flower that shone when Willie smiled!
But still I must hang, weeping, round it,
I'm such a sad and lonely child!
Our darling bird, that used to sing,
And smile from out his loving eye,
When Willie came, now droops the wing,
And looks as if he too would die.
His cup of seeds, and drink, declining,
He silent sits all day;
And seems at heart with sorrow pining
To close his eye, and pass away.
Then, the sweet bird beside his master
And that lone flower will Clara lay.
And smile from out his loving eye,
When Willie came, now droops the wing,
And looks as if he too would die.
His cup of seeds, and drink, declining,
He silent sits all day;
And seems at heart with sorrow pining
To close his eye, and pass away.
Then, the sweet bird beside his master
And that lone flower will Clara lay.
When mother died, I was too young
To know her love, or miss her care;
And father on the sea, among
The great, wild waves, that drowned him there.
'T is woe to lose an only brother,
When ne'er to me was known
A sister dear,—a father,—mother!
And if to God they all are gone,
I pray he 'd take poor little Clara;
I feel so lone,—so sad and lone!
To know her love, or miss her care;
And father on the sea, among
The great, wild waves, that drowned him there.
'T is woe to lose an only brother,
When ne'er to me was known
A sister dear,—a father,—mother!
And if to God they all are gone,
I pray he 'd take poor little Clara;
I feel so lone,—so sad and lone!
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