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Poem April 12, 1838

Virginia Free Press

Charles Town, Jefferson County, West Virginia

What is this article about?

A mother reassures her fearful child about death by planting a seed that grows into a flowering plant, metaphorically explaining that just as the flower blooms from the buried seed, the child's soul will rise beautifully to paradise after death.

Clipping

OCR Quality

98% Excellent

Full Text

It is NOT HARD TO DIE.

"Oh! mother, say, must we all die?
You, sister, dear papa, and I?
I do not like to think I shall
Lie in the deep, dark grave, so still.
Mother, I'm fond of life and play,
And like not to be borne away
From the green fields and pleasant light,
To lie where it is always night."

"Come hither, child, and thou shalt place
Within the earth, in yonder vase,
This pretty grain."

"Oh! it is smooth and round!
Mother, put not in the ground
This pretty grain."

"Do it, my love:
For by this seed I wish to prove,
That it is not so hard to die,
And in the deep, dark grave, to lie."

"How sweet a fragrance fills the room!
Mother, your flowers are now in bloom;
And oh! how beautiful they seem
While standing in the bright sunbeam!
Mother, I'm glad you made me place
That smooth round seed within the vase;
For more delighted now, I see
The blossoms on this pretty tree,
Which from that buried grain has sprung."

" 'Tis thus, my love, with children young.
And loved of God; their bodies die,
And, like that grain, in earth must lie:
But, like this flower, from thence shall rise,
A form of beauty in the skies-
And quickly springing from the tomb,
In Paradise shall ever bloom."

What sub-type of article is it?

Ballad Hymn

What themes does it cover?

Death Mourning Religious Faith Moral Virtue

What keywords are associated?

Death Children Resurrection Seed Religious Consolation Afterlife Flower Moral Instruction

Poem Details

Title

It Is Not Hard To Die.

Subject

Consolation On Death For Children

Key Lines

"Oh! Mother, Say, Must We All Die? You, Sister, Dear Papa, And I? I Do Not Like To Think I Shall Lie In The Deep, Dark Grave, So Still. " 'Tis Thus, My Love, With Children Young. And Loved Of God; Their Bodies Die, And, Like That Grain, In Earth Must Lie: But, Like This Flower, From Thence Shall Rise, A Form Of Beauty In The Skies "And Quickly Springing From The Tomb, In Paradise Shall Ever Bloom."

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