Poems — On an Infant's Grave

ON AN INFANT’S GRAVE

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.