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Poem
May 20, 1839
Alexandria Gazette
Alexandria, Alexandria County, District Of Columbia
What is this article about?
Excerpt from a 19th-century poem in the Knickerbocker magazine for May, elegizing the peaceful death of an infant, portraying the child's brief, untroubled life as a short float down time's stream before returning to God.
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OCR Quality
95%
Excellent
Full Text
The following lines are taken from a
poem on the death of an infant, in the Knicker-
bocker for May:
How peacefully they rest,
Cross-folded there
Upon his little breast,
Those tiny hands, that ne'er were still before,
But ever sported with his mother's hair,
Or the plain cross that on her breast she wore!
Her heart no more will beat,
To feel the touch of that soft palm;
That ever seemed a new surprise.
Sending glad thoughts up to her eyes.
To bless him with their holy calm;
Sweet thoughts, that left her eyes as sweet.
How quiet are the hands
That wove those pleasant bands!
But that they do not rise and sink,
With his calm breathing, I should think
That he were dropped asleep:
Alas! too deep, too deep
Is this his slumber!
Time scarce can number
The years ere he will wake again;
Oh may we see his eye-lids open then.
He did but float a little way
Adown the stream of time.
With dreamy eyes, watching the ripples play,
And listening their fairy chime;
His slender sail
Ne'er felt the gale;
He did but float a little way,
And putting to the shore,
While 'twas early day,
Went calmly on his way,
To dwell with us no more!
No jarring did he feel,
No grating on his vessel's keel;
A strip of silver sand
Mingled the waters with the land,
Where he was seen no more:
Oh stern word, nevermore!
Full short his journey was; no dust
Of earth unto his sandals clave;
The weary weight that old men must,
He bore not to the grave:
He seemed a cherub who had lost his way,
And wandering hither; so his stay
With us was short, and 'twas most meet
That he should be no delver in earth's clod
Nor need to pause and cleanse his feet,
To stand before his God.
poem on the death of an infant, in the Knicker-
bocker for May:
How peacefully they rest,
Cross-folded there
Upon his little breast,
Those tiny hands, that ne'er were still before,
But ever sported with his mother's hair,
Or the plain cross that on her breast she wore!
Her heart no more will beat,
To feel the touch of that soft palm;
That ever seemed a new surprise.
Sending glad thoughts up to her eyes.
To bless him with their holy calm;
Sweet thoughts, that left her eyes as sweet.
How quiet are the hands
That wove those pleasant bands!
But that they do not rise and sink,
With his calm breathing, I should think
That he were dropped asleep:
Alas! too deep, too deep
Is this his slumber!
Time scarce can number
The years ere he will wake again;
Oh may we see his eye-lids open then.
He did but float a little way
Adown the stream of time.
With dreamy eyes, watching the ripples play,
And listening their fairy chime;
His slender sail
Ne'er felt the gale;
He did but float a little way,
And putting to the shore,
While 'twas early day,
Went calmly on his way,
To dwell with us no more!
No jarring did he feel,
No grating on his vessel's keel;
A strip of silver sand
Mingled the waters with the land,
Where he was seen no more:
Oh stern word, nevermore!
Full short his journey was; no dust
Of earth unto his sandals clave;
The weary weight that old men must,
He bore not to the grave:
He seemed a cherub who had lost his way,
And wandering hither; so his stay
With us was short, and 'twas most meet
That he should be no delver in earth's clod
Nor need to pause and cleanse his feet,
To stand before his God.
What sub-type of article is it?
Elegy
What themes does it cover?
Death Mourning
Religious Faith
What keywords are associated?
Infant Death
Child Elegy
Mourning Poem
Peaceful Rest
Eternal Slumber
Knickerbocker Magazine
Poem Details
Subject
On The Death Of An Infant
Key Lines
How Peacefully They Rest, / Cross Folded There / Upon His Little Breast, / Those Tiny Hands, That Ne'er Were Still Before,
He Did But Float A Little Way / Adown The Stream Of Time. / With Dreamy Eyes, Watching The Ripples Play, / And Listening Their Fairy Chime;
Oh Stern Word, Nevermore!
He Seemed A Cherub Who Had Lost His Way, / And Wandering Hither; So His Stay / With Us Was Short, And 'Twas Most Meet / That He Should Be No Delver In Earth's Clod