Poems (Curwen)/Baby Sam

by Annie Isabel Curwen

Baby Sam.

"O, how many hopes lay hid
'Neath his tiny coffin lid."

Death has hushed the baby's cry,
With his softest lullaby;
Wooed him from his mother's breast,
To a sweeter, sounder rest.

Death has closed the baby eyes,
But they're ope'd in Paradise,
Where his little soul has fled—
Baby sleeps, he is not dead.

Death has robed in fairer dress,
Baby's waxen loveliness;
Set his seal on lip and brow—
Baby is an angel now.

Mother's lips could never sing,
For her little baby king,
Songs one half as sweet as he
Heareth by the crystal sea.

Mother's arms, however strong,
Cannot always keep from wrong.
Pastures green, and golden street,
Are safest for the little feet.

Mother's love, however warm,
Cannot always shield from harm.
So, Our Father, in His love,
Calls the little ones above.

Mother, dear, be reconciled,
God has called thy little child,
That his tiny soul may be
A link between Himself and thee.