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Poem
February 3, 1876
The Working Christian
York, Charleston, Columbia, York County, Charleston County, Richland County, South Carolina
What is this article about?
Introduction and poem 'The Mother's Offering' by M. G. H. consoles a mother mourning her infant's death, imagining an angel taking the child to heaven as a bud among eternal lilies by the fountain under shadowless trees, emphasizing faith and future reunion.
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COMMUNICATIONS.
The Mother's Offering.
Do publish the lines which accompany this. They will afford comfort to many a mother mourning o'er her gathered lilies, that now unfold their snowy petals by the fountain's brink, 'neath the shadowless tree. If, as it is generally computed, more than half the human race die in infancy, how great the number of little children in heaven! How sweet the chorus of infant voices that surround the Throne—'a multitude whom no man can number!' The loving Saviour, when on earth, took the little ones up in his arms and blessed them, and we can imagine how tender must be his feelings to these tiny flowerets gathered from the gardens of earth.
M. G. H.
Flowers are wanted in Heaven to day,
An angel said to me:
And we have enough save a few more buds.
Your little bud I would see.
I turned me about, and brought forth my child;
The angel looked in her face and smiled;
There is nothing fairer on high, said he—
I will take this bud, if it pleaseth thee.
I looked at the child, and I thought, alas!
Life is ever as brittle as glass,
In manhood as in infancy.
Some day when my bud doth wider ope.
Just when the full blown flower; I hope
It may fade, and drop and die.
Or if not so, yet, in coming years
In this sad world so full of tears.
As my flower I stoop to kiss,
It may be my lot to weep and start
As I see coiled up in its inmost heart
A serpent with venomed hiss.
It may fall to me, ah! who can tell?
In after years to remember well
What the angel asked to-day,
And to wish with many and many a tear
I had parted that day with my bud so dear,
And granted my God His way.
I will do this now. In the realm on high
My bud shall never more "sorrow nor cry;"
My bud never fade nor fall.
And I will not think of the dreary tomb
I will look about where my flower doth bloom,
I will have no funeral pall.
Circulate is not death with the sombre wing.
In it to make transplanting the dear little thing
and does have gen of my God.
re. Men n resoi miss her—that I know!
be excused, much this a cruel blow,
of a prof
have felt the rod."
nent, wallen ye'babe to my loving heart.
abord if yed and soothed, and sung her to
d dnrest;
The angel meanwhile smiled—
"She is sleeping," I said; "Let her not awake
Till the glory of God around her break!"
And I gave Him my little child.
Then I turned and bowed me low to the ground:
I rose—neither angel nor child I found!
But I have no fears, and I love to think
Of the lilies above at the fountain's brink.
And I quiet my heart with the precious thought,
"My child is with God and can lack for naught,
And I know that some time—when God shall please,
I will meet her again, 'neath the shadowless trees.
The Mother's Offering.
Do publish the lines which accompany this. They will afford comfort to many a mother mourning o'er her gathered lilies, that now unfold their snowy petals by the fountain's brink, 'neath the shadowless tree. If, as it is generally computed, more than half the human race die in infancy, how great the number of little children in heaven! How sweet the chorus of infant voices that surround the Throne—'a multitude whom no man can number!' The loving Saviour, when on earth, took the little ones up in his arms and blessed them, and we can imagine how tender must be his feelings to these tiny flowerets gathered from the gardens of earth.
M. G. H.
Flowers are wanted in Heaven to day,
An angel said to me:
And we have enough save a few more buds.
Your little bud I would see.
I turned me about, and brought forth my child;
The angel looked in her face and smiled;
There is nothing fairer on high, said he—
I will take this bud, if it pleaseth thee.
I looked at the child, and I thought, alas!
Life is ever as brittle as glass,
In manhood as in infancy.
Some day when my bud doth wider ope.
Just when the full blown flower; I hope
It may fade, and drop and die.
Or if not so, yet, in coming years
In this sad world so full of tears.
As my flower I stoop to kiss,
It may be my lot to weep and start
As I see coiled up in its inmost heart
A serpent with venomed hiss.
It may fall to me, ah! who can tell?
In after years to remember well
What the angel asked to-day,
And to wish with many and many a tear
I had parted that day with my bud so dear,
And granted my God His way.
I will do this now. In the realm on high
My bud shall never more "sorrow nor cry;"
My bud never fade nor fall.
And I will not think of the dreary tomb
I will look about where my flower doth bloom,
I will have no funeral pall.
Circulate is not death with the sombre wing.
In it to make transplanting the dear little thing
and does have gen of my God.
re. Men n resoi miss her—that I know!
be excused, much this a cruel blow,
of a prof
have felt the rod."
nent, wallen ye'babe to my loving heart.
abord if yed and soothed, and sung her to
d dnrest;
The angel meanwhile smiled—
"She is sleeping," I said; "Let her not awake
Till the glory of God around her break!"
And I gave Him my little child.
Then I turned and bowed me low to the ground:
I rose—neither angel nor child I found!
But I have no fears, and I love to think
Of the lilies above at the fountain's brink.
And I quiet my heart with the precious thought,
"My child is with God and can lack for naught,
And I know that some time—when God shall please,
I will meet her again, 'neath the shadowless trees.
What sub-type of article is it?
Elegy
Ballad
What themes does it cover?
Death Mourning
Religious Faith
What keywords are associated?
Infant Death
Mother Grief
Angel Child
Heaven Lilies
Faith Consolation
What entities or persons were involved?
M. G. H.
Poem Details
Title
The Mother's Offering.
Author
M. G. H.
Subject
Comfort To A Mother Mourning Her Infant Child
Key Lines
Flowers Are Wanted In Heaven To Day,
An Angel Said To Me:
And We Have Enough Save A Few More Buds.
Your Little Bud I Would See.
I Will Do This Now. In The Realm On High
My Bud Shall Never More "Sorrow Nor Cry;"
My Bud Never Fade Nor Fall.
My Child Is With God And Can Lack For Naught,
And I Know That Some Time—When God Shall Please,
I Will Meet Her Again, 'Neath The Shadowless Trees.