 | New songs of innocence |  |
63
THE DYING CHILD.
Now clover is perfuming
The meadows every day,
And every weed is blooming
Along the dusty way;
But, all my chamber shading,
Grief sits beside the bed
Where my sweet flower lies fading
And cannot raise her head.
The meadows every day,
And every weed is blooming
Along the dusty way;
But, all my chamber shading,
Grief sits beside the bed
Where my sweet flower lies fading
And cannot raise her head.
The sunshine cannot save her;
The breeze's sweetest breath,
The summer's fairest favour—
They cannot combat Death!
I see the sword hang trembling;
I shrink in anguish wild;
Yet still, my woe dissembling,
Speak comfort to my child:
The breeze's sweetest breath,
The summer's fairest favour—
They cannot combat Death!
I see the sword hang trembling;
I shrink in anguish wild;
Yet still, my woe dissembling,
Speak comfort to my child:
‘My darling, you are going
Where I too hope to come;
Where life's great tree is growing—
Where sorrow's voice is dumb.
A land of joy and splendour
Beside a sea of glass,
Lit by a love more tender’—
—Father, let this cup pass!
Where I too hope to come;
Where life's great tree is growing—
Where sorrow's voice is dumb.
A land of joy and splendour
Beside a sea of glass,
Lit by a love more tender’—
—Father, let this cup pass!
| New songs of innocence | |