Beneath the sod where smiling creep
The daisies into view,
The ashes of an Infant sleep,
Whose soul’s as smiling too;
Ah! doubly happy, doubly blest,
(Had I so happy been!)
Recall’d to heaven’s eternal rest,
Ere it knew how to sin.
Thrice happy Infant! great the bliss
Alone reserv’d for thee;
Such joy ’twas my sad fate to miss,
And thy good luck to see;
For oh! when all must rise again,
And sentence then shall have,
What crowds will wish with me, in vain,
They’d fill’d an infant’s grave.