The Litchfield County post. [volume] (Litchfield, Conn.) 1826-1829, 1827-08-23
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and Executors S1,(
ST.
From Blackwood's Edingburgh Magazine.
TO A DYING INFANT.
Sleep, little baby sleep!
Notin thy cradle bed,
Not on thy mothers breast
Henceforth shall be thy rest,
But with the quiet dead.
Yes-with the quiet dead,
Baby, thy rest shall be,
oh! many weary wight,
Weary of life and light,
Would fain lie down with thee.
Flee, little tender nurseling!
Flee to thy grassy nest;
There the first flowers shall blow,
The first pure fake of snow
Shall fall upon thy breast.
Peace! peace! the little bosom
Labours with short ming breath
Peace! peace that tremulous sigh
Speaks his departure nigh
Those are the damps of death.
I've seen thee in thy beauty,
A thing all health and glee;
But never then vert thou
So beautiful as now,
Baby! thou seem'st to me.
Thine up-turn'd eyes glaz'd over
Like hare-bells wet with dew,
Already vei'd and hid
BY the convulsed lid,
Their pupils darby blue.
Thy little mouth half OPEN
The soft lip qnivering,
As il like summer air
Ruffiing the rose leaf there
Thy soul were fluttcring.
Mount up, immortal essence!
Young spirit! haste, depart
And is this death!-Dread Thing.
If such thy visiting,
How beautiful thou art!
oh! could gaze forever
Upon that waxen face;
So passionlcss! so pure! b
The little shrine was sure
An Angels dwellhng-place.
Thou weepest, childless mother!
Ay, weep-5'twill ease thine heart
He was thy first born son,
Ehy first, thine only one,
IT'S hard from him to part
Tic hard to lay thy darling @
Deep in the damp cold earth
His empty crib to see,
His silent nursery,
Once gladstone with his mirth.
To meet again in slumber
His small mouths rosy kiss;
Then, waken'd with start
BY thine own throbbing heart,
His twining arms to miss!
To feel (half conscious why)
A dull, heart-sinking weight;
Till memory on thy soul
Flashes the painful whole,
That thou art desolate!
And then to lie and weep,
And think the livelong night
Feeding thine own distress
With accurate greedlness)
Ofevery past delight
OF all his winning ways,
His pretty playful smiles,
His Joy at sight office,
His tricks. his mimickry
And all his little wilcs!
Oh these are rccollections
Round mothers hearts that cling
That mngle with the tears,
And smiles Of after years,
With Oft awakening.
But thou wilt then, fond mother!
In after years, look back, "a
(Pime brings suchwondrous easing,)
With sadness not unpleasing,
Fen on this gloomy track
Thou'lt say" My first born blessing!
1t almost broke my heart
When thou vert forc'd to 60,
And vet for thee, know
Twas better to depart.
"God took thee in his mercy,
A lamb, untask'd, untried;
He fought the fight for thee,
He won the victory,
And thou art sanctifed.
az look around and see
The evil ways of men
And oh ! beloved child!
I'm more than reconcipd
To thy departure then.
"The little arms that clasp'd me,
The innocent lips that prest,-
Would they have been as pure
Till now, as when of yore,
lull'd thee on my breast?
snow like dew-drop shrin'd
Within crystal stone)
Thou'rt safe 10 heaven, my dove!
Safe with the Source Of Love,
The Everlasting One.
And when the hour arrives
From flesh that sets me free
Thy spirit may await.
The FIRST AT heavens gate,
To meet and welcome me-
Remedy for kRtensperGnce.-Mr Andrew M. Ia
ing, who has been for some time past assistant to
Numbers, has been appointed BY the public admin