Weep not, my child, weep not forme,Though heavy is the stroke,And thou must early learn indeedTo bear affliction's yoke.Yet weep not, for you all have heard,Oft from these lips, in health,How Death will often snatch awayMothers by mystic stealth.How often, when within the homeThe sun of joy doth glow,Some deed of his insidious handWill fill that home with woe.But when thy mother far has soaredTo regions all divine,A livelier voice, my precious one,Shall speak to thee, than mine.Weep not for me—all tears remove—I die without a fear;My God, to whom you are assigned,Your early prayers shall hear.When twilight opes the dappled morn,And clothes the east in grey,When sunbeams deck the west at eve,Oh then, beloved one—Pray.
Weep not, my child, weep not forme,Though heavy is the stroke,And thou must early learn indeedTo bear affliction's yoke.Yet weep not, for you all have heard,Oft from these lips, in health,How Death will often snatch awayMothers by mystic stealth.How often, when within the homeThe sun of joy doth glow,Some deed of his insidious handWill fill that home with woe.
But when thy mother far has soaredTo regions all divine,A livelier voice, my precious one,Shall speak to thee, than mine.Weep not for me—all tears remove—I die without a fear;My God, to whom you are assigned,Your early prayers shall hear.When twilight opes the dappled morn,And clothes the east in grey,When sunbeams deck the west at eve,Oh then, beloved one—Pray.
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