For my infant, who live but 18 hrs
As the pure snoe-drop, child of April Tears
Shook by the rough winds desolating breath
Scarce o'er the chilly sod its low head rears
and trembling dies upon the paren health
So my lost boy, arrayed in fancys charms
to the cold tyrant strected his feeble arms
and struggling sighed his lil life away
as not in vain the early snow-drop rose
thu short its date and heard the withering gale
since its pale bloom ethereal balm bestows
and cheers with vernal hope and wasted vale
my perished child, dear pledge of many a pain!
torn from this ruffian world, in yon bright spphere
joins with awakened voice the cherub train
and pours his sweet breath on a mothers ear
kind dreams of morn his fairy phantom bring
and floating tones of ecstasy impart
kind dreams of morn his fairy phantom bring
and floating seraphs strike the heavenly string
to charm the settled sorrow of the heart
2006-10-06
10:56:24
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2 answers
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asked by
oocc
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in
Entertainment & Music
➔ Other - Entertainment