The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1882-01-25
THE pEArz OF LITTLE .RErH
ATFEcTIoxArELY INSCRIBED TO Nh. AND ms,
JAS A. COOK, BTRAw, Mss.

Sweet spirii 10 more We behold thee;
Thou art gone where our eyes cannot see,
Our arms can no Longer enfold thee.
Bun our heats are ever with ihea
They are with thee bath wax ing and sleepint
For W dream till the gray iawn's break,
Then waking We And ourselves weeping,
Aud weeping We find we're awake
For one brief year tilou went forward,
fhior- h valleys whose verdure VAS fair,
Blu when The uex, lifted its curtain
I 4 >hadnw was lowering there.
/ Il fell IWixt hearts so devoted,
And LIFT them in sorrow alone
| Just a feltui 1T thou vert christended
Aad now thou art gone, thou art gone.
The hopes that Thy father once cherished
! Havr fed md he's left in despair.
| With thee in tae grave theyyhave persisted,
" 18th thee they are Wondering there
they sank when thy spirit departed,
| They vanished with thee in the tomb.
! Aud left Linn behind token hearted,
bhshied tree crushed ia its bloom.
An oak tree bereft of the sunshine
Will wither and fall to decay.
Thus his heart without hope and affection,
In darkness will wither away.
lie poaders upon the hereafter,
Ihat mystery back oi the tomb
The future lies shroud in sh dcws;
he struggles 20 Iafh0m the gloom.
He questions the decree OF jehovah,
He eds bitter tears thar are vain
On Col, why she Iaken
This is his souls burdened strain.
Oh Be-hl our brightest crown jewel
That shown with n radiance 50 fair,
To be torn so soon from y~ur setting,
Leaving the circlet SO bare.
Oh, poor stricken mother, your wailing
Will net make the s.ili pulse OF the dead,
Those hot tears are all ana yaili1g,
For her soul from It's easket has fed.
The cradle stands empty and silent,
The little worn shoes laid away,
Yet the mates to that ehngiEg ringlct,
Now shines in a more matchless day.
They g cam in the crown piece of Heaven,
That dIadem worn in the skies,
The beacon that i'lumines that region,
BILE to mortal eyes.
So pour this balm of Gil cad
Unto your grief-laden heart
That over beyond the river,
You can meet no more to part,
AAd vain will be your endeavorg
Fuiurity's book TO enfold,
For this is sure sealed volume,
Y our eyes are not to behold.
You may wistfully gaze on the binding,
W hose leaves are the unreveated years,
With sometimes dread of there finding
Another page bl0tted with tears.
But madam" let your griefand your sorrow,
Be Inferred in the seli-same grave,
And in this your souls desolation,
Look only to Him who can save;
Unto Him on whose fatherly bosom,
Our dear dead baby now lies,
Safe in the fold of Emmanuel,
Safe in her niche in the skies.
Deaths frost with its icy cold fingers,
Has withered this beautiful bloom.
But, around the dead petals Their fingers,
A trace of the subtle per ume.
And though this blossom has faded
l. Ike vision OF Heaven rare,
We know it is blooming brightly,
In that Eden, "0ver there"
Sc cheer up, grief stricken parents,
. Not dead, bun gone before,
TO what will tighten your burden,
" nile linging the shore.
Contend not against the hand Of yaur God,
Though cruel are deaths bolts ami bars,
Though you have passed indeed meath the rod
Oh, meet her beyond the stars.