A little angel-child, with great blue eyes
That speak as plainly as her prattling tongue,
Gave me this lock of hair—a simple curl,
Soft as her cheek and sunny as her smile.
I keep the token with a jealous care,
For when I look at it my mind is filled
With thoughts of truth and tenderness and love.
And innocent simplicity of heart,
And all those lovely attributes that throw
Around endearing childhood that rare charm
Which like the violet's perfume gives to it
A nameless sweetness.—Blissful-hearted child!
If I can read thy horoscope aright
The dawning of thy life is not more fair
Than its late close will be. A vision bright
Shows me thy sun of life descending slow
'Mid rosy clouds, the portals of that world
That lies beyond the grave; and voices soft,
Whose tones can reach the spirit's ear alone,
Float from that realm of never-ending bliss,—
'Welcome thou stainless one, no taint of earth
Unfits thee for the bliss that angels share'!