44 | Linden Harp#45a | 45b |
1 Go to thy rest, my child--
Go to thy dreamless bed;
Gentle, and meek, and mild,
With blessings on thy head:
Fresh roses in thy hand,
Buds on thy pillow laid,
Haste from this fearful land,
Where flowers so quickly fade.
2 Before thy heart might learn
In waywardness to stray,--
Before thy feet could turn
The dark and downward way,--
Ere sin might wound thy breast,
Or sorrow wake the tear,
Rise to thy home of rest
In yon celestial sphere.
3 Because thy smile was fair,
Thy lips and eyes so bright,--
Because thy cradle care
Was such a fond delight,--
Shall love, with weak embrace,
The heavenward flight detain?
No, angel! seek thy place
Amid yon cherub train.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Go to thy rest, my child |
Title: | Go to thy rest, my child |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1855 |