Various

They made a little crown in heaven
When she was born—
Only the breath of angels on it;
Neither flower nor leaf upon it;
Never a single thorn.

Slowly it grew in form and beauty
As the days passed on—
Tinged her eyes with love-light's dawning;
Ruby lips to love-words forming;
Lisping future song.

Brighter still the crown was budding
As the year grew old;
And my simple heart beguiling,
Angels shewed it to me smiling:
So the days grew cold.

'Look! O mother! look upon it!'
(Baby lay asleep);
'In the heavens' sunny bowers
Twine we everlasting flowers;
Think upon it in the hours
When you will weep!'

'Look! O mother! fair we've made it
For an angel's head!'
There was something strange and wild
Struck my heart—the angels smiled:
I turned to look upon my child—
And she was dead.

F. Rochat.

Printed and Published by W. & R. Chambers, 47 Paternoster Row, London, and 339 High Street, Edinburgh.

All Rights Reserved.