LINES ON THE DEATH OF BABY DICK.

 (Written at the request of Mrs. Rose Welsch.)

 There’s a lonely vacant corner, In our hearts and home to-day; For our baby
 boy is missing: God has taken him away. There’s a little unused cradle, And a
 tiny empty chair, There’s sorrow in our household, Oh, so deep, so hard to
 bear.

 Not alone we’ve lost our baby, But found hopes, and many a plan Made for
 future years of brightness When our boy had grown a man. He to be our stay and
 comfort. He our pride, our hope, our joy - Dashed to earth our airy castles!
 Dead and gone our baby boy!

 In a tiny, dainty coffin, Baby Dick was laid away; Heaped above his little
 body, Is a tiny mound of clay; But the angels bore his spirit, To the Heaven,
 far away; We shall reach the Shining City, We shall meet him there some day.

 For his little feet are waiting, Close beside the Golden Shore, There no Death
 can ever part us. And all pain and grief are o’er. But the days are long and
 lonely, Arms so empty, hearts so sad. Oh the waiting is so dreary! But the
 meeting will be glad.

 EDITH M. PETRIE.

 Phillips, Aug. 27th, 1886.

 ----Sources: The (Colby) Phonograph, (Clark Co., WI) 2 Sept. 1886

 

 

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