[from Collected Works, T.E.Brown]
OB. OCT. 12, 1879
BRIGHT skies, bright sea
All happy things
That, borne on wings,
Cleave the long distance, glad and free
A boatswift swirls
Of foam-wakeboys and girls
And innocence and laughterShe
Was there, and was so happy ; and I said
" God bless the children!"
Dead, say you ? " Yes, the last sweet rose
Is gathered "Close, O close,
O, gently, gently, very gently close
Her little book of life, and seal it up
To God, who gave, who tookO bitter cup O bell !
O folding graveO mother, it is well
Yes, it is well. He holds the key
That opens all the mysteries ; and He
Has blessed our childrenit is well.