Ballads for little folk . -yard, hushed and still. Pointing over to the shoulders Of the head-stones, white and high, Said I, in his bright face looking, Think you you shall ever lie In among those weeping willows ? No ! he said, I cannot die ! Cannot die ? my little darling, Tis the way we all must go ! Then the bold bright spirit in him Setting all his cheek aglow,He repeated still the answer, I shall never die, I know! ioo A Childs Wisdom. Wait and think. On yonder hill-sideThere are graves as short as you. Death is strong. — But He who made DeathIs as strong, and stronger too. Death may ta


Ballads for little folk . -yard, hushed and still. Pointing over to the shoulders Of the head-stones, white and high, Said I, in his bright face looking, Think you you shall ever lie In among those weeping willows ? No ! he said, I cannot die ! Cannot die ? my little darling, Tis the way we all must go ! Then the bold bright spirit in him Setting all his cheek aglow,He repeated still the answer, I shall never die, I know! ioo A Childs Wisdom. Wait and think. On yonder hill-sideThere are graves as short as you. Death is strong. — But He who made DeathIs as strong, and stronger too. Death may take me, God will wake me,And will make me live anew. Since we sat within the elm shade Talking as the storm came on,Many a blessed hope has vanished, Many a year has come and gone ;But that simple, sweet believing Is the staff I lean upon. From my arms, so closely clasping, Long ago my darling fled ;Morning brightness makes no lightness In the darkness where I tread:He is lost, and I am lonely, But I know he is not


Size: 1556px × 1606px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, booksubjectchildre, bookyear1874