IN GOD'S ACRE.
(From " All the Year Round-'V 'Twas on a Morn of Summer, In the kirkyard lone, An old man, hoary headed, Sat upon a stone, And thought of days departed, And griefs that he had known. His long white hair was wafted On the wandering breeze j A bonnie little maiden Frolicked at his knees, And twined fair flowers with rushes, Gathered on the leas;: ';• 1 ;; '•'.-; ■ Over her present labor She crooned her infant song ; : I said with self-communing, " Death shall not tarry long, For the old old fruit hath ripened, And the young fruit groweth strong." Alas ! for the To-morrow, That recks not of To-day ! Fate, like a serpent crawling, Unnoticed, on its prey, : Came as a burning fever, And snatched the babe away. Death ! why so harsh and cruel, To take'the infant mild, Home to its God and Father, All pure and undefiled : And leave the old man hoary Weeping for the child ? .■■ ■ " Whom the gods love die early !" : Our Father knowest best ; And we are wrong to censure, The supreme behest : Sleep softly ! bonnie blossom, ' Sleep ! and take thy rest ! ' ) We need such consolation, Whether we live or die : Were Death no benefactor, Laden with blessings high ; Sad, sad were the survivors, Under the awful sky !
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Southland Times, Issue 1308, 16 September 1870, Page 3
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211IN GOD'S ACRE. Southland Times, Issue 1308, 16 September 1870, Page 3
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