Classic Poem

By parental kindness sheltered,
Ne'er the little child had seen
One whose form of lifeless beauty
Wore Death's sad and solemn mien;
Till a youthful, loved companion
Soared to seek an angel's home,
And the little girl was lifted
To behold her lifeless form.

Then the child, no death-scene fearing,
Gazed upon the flowers around,
Wondering that from lips so lovely
Came no pleasant, wonted sound;
Bent she o'er the tiny coffin,—
Sunshine all her face abroad,—
Kissed the cheek of marble coldness,
Whispering, “Give my love to God!”

Thus, if childlike each in spirit,
We in childlike trust may bend
O'er the couch where Death is calling
Some beloved and cherished friend;
And, while Faith's unclouded vision
Sees them soar to heavenly rest,
Send, as if to far-off country,
Loving message to the blest.