Page:Roden Noel - A Little Child's Monument - 1881.pdf/19

 The joy-pulse of her wing, Thy songs, thy blossoming, O my little child!

For the hallowing of thy smile, love, The rainbow of thy smile, Gleaming for a while, love, Gleaming to beguile! Replunged me in the cold, dear, Leaves me in the cold And I feel so very old, dear. Very, very old!

Would they put me out of pain, dear, Out of all my pain, Since I may not live again, dear, Never live again!

I am lying in the grave, love, In thy little grave, Yet I hear the wind rave, love, And the wild wave! I would lie asleep, darling, With thee lie asleep, Unhearing the world weep, darling, Little children weep! O my little child!