 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
267
ALICE.
And thou, my child in glory! gone beforeTo reign with Jesus in eternal rest
Hymning thine infant psalm among the blest,
Should I not count thee still among my store,
My jewel store of children? should I cease,
Nor sing of thee as lent a little while
To teach how patient is an heir of Peace
When Death itself is welcomed with a smile?
Beautiful Alice! six long months of pain
With two short added years of prattling love
Made up the life, whose loss to thee was gain,
So soon translated to the life above,—
Too soon for us,—Ah well—my heart is fain
To fly away and be with thee, sweet dove!
| Three Hundred Sonnets | |