Hymns from the Land of Luther

Smiling, a bright-eyed seraph bent

Over an infant's dream;

To view his mirrored form he leant

As in the crystal stream.

"Fair infant, come," he whispered low,

"And leave the earth with me;

To a bright and happy land we'll go--

This is no home for thee.

"Each sparkling pleasure knows alloy,

Nor cloudless skies are here;

A care there is for every joy,

For every smile a tear.

"The heart that dances free and light

May soon be chained by sorrow;

The sun that sets in calm to-night,

May rise in storm to-morrow.

"Alas! to cloud a brow so fair,

That griefs and pains should rise!

Alas! that this dark world of care

Should dim these laughing eyes!

"To seek a brighter land with me,

Infant, thou wilt not fear;

For piteous Heaven the sad decree

Recalls, that sent thee here."

It seemed ou him the sweet babe smiled.

His wings the seraph spread:

They're gone--the angel and the child.

Poor mother! thy son is dead!