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| IT was but yesterday, my love, thy little heart beat high, | |
| And I had scorned the warning voice that told me thou must die; | |
| I saw thee move with active bound, with spirits light and free, | |
| And infant grace and beauty gave their glorious charm to thee. | |
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| Upon the dewy field I saw thine early footsteps fly, | 5 |
| Unfettered as the matin bird that cleaves the radiant sky; | |
| And often as the sunrise gale blew back thy shining hair, | |
| Thy cheek displayed the red-rose tinge that health had painted there. | |
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| Then, withered as my heart had been, I could not but rejoice | |
| To hear upon the morning wind the music of thy voice, | 10 |
| Now echoing in the careless laugh, now melting down to tears: | |
| ’T was like the sounds I used to hear in old and happier years. | |
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| Thanks for that memory to thee, my lovely little boy! | |
| ’T is all remains of former bliss that care cannot destroy; | |
| I listened, as the mariner suspends the outbound oar | 15 |
| To taste the farewell gale that blows from off his native shore. | |
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| I loved thee, and my heart was blessed; but ere the day was spent, | |
| I saw thy light and graceful form in drooping illness bent, | |
| And shuddered as I cast a look upon the fainting head, | |
| For all the glow of health was gone, and life was almost fled. | 20 |
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| One glance upon thy marble brow made known that hope was vain; | |
| I knew the swiftly wasting lamp would never light again; | |
| Thy cheek was pale, thy snow-white lips were gently thrown apart, | |
| And life in every passing breath seemed gushing from the heart. | |
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| And, when I could not keep the tear from gathering in my eye, | 25 |
| Thy little hand pressed gently mine in token of reply; | |
| To ask one more exchange of love thy look was upward cast, | |
| And in that long and burning kiss thy happy spirit passed. | |
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| I trusted I should not have lived to bid farewell to thee, | |
| And nature in my heart declares it ought not so to be; | 30 |
| I hoped that thou within the grave my weary head should lay, | |
| And live beloved, when I was gone, for many a happy day. | |
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| With trembling hand I vainly tried thy dying eyes to close, | |
| And how I envied in that hour thy calm and deep repose! | |
| For I was left alone on earth, with pain and grief opprest; | 35 |
| And thou wert with the sainted, where the weary are at rest. | |
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| Yes! I am left alone on earth; but I will not repine | |
| Because a spirit loved so well is earlier blessed than mine: | |
| My fate may darken as it will, I shall not much deplore, | |
| Since thou art where the ills of life can never reach thee more. | 40 |
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