Lines on the above by A. R. S.

Publishing Committee · Rochester, N. Y. · Apr 4, 1854

Lines on the above.

By A. R. S.

MANY a tear was shed, beholding Its young form in dreamless sleep; Brief the hours its charms unfolding, Ere it left them here to weep. Tender bud, so early blighted By Death's rude, relentless hand, In a fairer clime, united, Soon thy beauties will expand.

Though no more thy smile is cheering In the home, without thee drear, Nor thy lisping tones, endearing, Still delight the listening ear, Yet, to God the gift resigning, Parents, trust his promised grace; Through afflictions, thee refining, Till his image he can trace.

Weep not for the treasure longer, Taken from life's care and woe, Ere its infant steps could wander, Or its heart could sorrow know. Sleep! sweet babe, till Jesus calls thee From thy lowly resting-place! Kindred, then, where nought befalls thee, Clasp thee in their fond embrace! A. R. S.