BLOSSOMING ON THE OTHER SIDE.
Oh, weep not, ye whose child hath won
A dwelling in yon glorious sphere,
Where sin is past, and labor done;
'T is better than to linger here!
Oh, weep not, ye whose offspring wears
A heavenly crown upon her brow,
Whose hand a harp of worship bears,
Who sings the angelic anthem now!
Oh, weep not, ye whose child hath passed
Thus early from earth's tempting scene;
In heaven, temptation's furious blast
Can never reach the soul again!
Oh, weep not, ye whose child hath soared,
A seraph, to the world above,
Where endless day is round her poured,
And happy spirits dwell in love!
Oh, weep not, ye whom God hath left
To mourn a tie so early riven;
She lives,—while ye are thus bereft,—
First of your household, safe in heaven!
