Lucy and Ann
Lucy and Ann
Ann.Tellme, dear Lucy,Tell me true—What is that thingAbove, so blue?Lucy.My little Ann,We call it sky—And there, you know,God lives, on high.And it is heavenFar up above,Where angels dwell,In peace and love.And there, when dead,Good people go,To dwell with God,And angels too.Ann.’Tis beautiful!But, sister dear,Is it in heavenAs ’tis here?Are there sweet flowers,And blossoms fair,And silver streams,And fragrant air?And pretty birds,And butterflies,—Are there such thingsBeyond the skies?Lucy.We cannot tell;We only know,’Tis happier thereThan here below.The sweetest thingOn earth isLove;That fills each heartIn Heaven above.These things amid,The birds and flowers,The butterfliesIn blooming bowers,—All these are fair,—And yet more blestArt thou, dear Ann,On mother’s breast.’Tis Love, dear child,That makes thee so,And Heaven is Love,—That’s all we know.
Ann.Tellme, dear Lucy,Tell me true—What is that thingAbove, so blue?Lucy.My little Ann,We call it sky—And there, you know,God lives, on high.And it is heavenFar up above,Where angels dwell,In peace and love.And there, when dead,Good people go,To dwell with God,And angels too.Ann.’Tis beautiful!But, sister dear,Is it in heavenAs ’tis here?Are there sweet flowers,And blossoms fair,And silver streams,And fragrant air?And pretty birds,And butterflies,—Are there such thingsBeyond the skies?Lucy.We cannot tell;We only know,’Tis happier thereThan here below.The sweetest thingOn earth isLove;That fills each heartIn Heaven above.These things amid,The birds and flowers,The butterfliesIn blooming bowers,—All these are fair,—And yet more blestArt thou, dear Ann,On mother’s breast.’Tis Love, dear child,That makes thee so,And Heaven is Love,—That’s all we know.
Ann.
Tellme, dear Lucy,
Tell me true—
What is that thing
Above, so blue?
Lucy.
My little Ann,
We call it sky—
And there, you know,
God lives, on high.
And it is heavenFar up above,Where angels dwell,In peace and love.
And it is heaven
Far up above,
Where angels dwell,
In peace and love.
And there, when dead,Good people go,To dwell with God,And angels too.Ann.’Tis beautiful!But, sister dear,Is it in heavenAs ’tis here?
And there, when dead,
Good people go,
To dwell with God,
And angels too.
Ann.
’Tis beautiful!
But, sister dear,
Is it in heaven
As ’tis here?
Are there sweet flowers,And blossoms fair,And silver streams,And fragrant air?
Are there sweet flowers,
And blossoms fair,
And silver streams,
And fragrant air?
And pretty birds,And butterflies,—Are there such thingsBeyond the skies?Lucy.We cannot tell;We only know,’Tis happier thereThan here below.
And pretty birds,
And butterflies,—
Are there such things
Beyond the skies?
Lucy.
We cannot tell;
We only know,
’Tis happier there
Than here below.
The sweetest thingOn earth isLove;That fills each heartIn Heaven above.
The sweetest thing
On earth isLove;
That fills each heart
In Heaven above.
These things amid,The birds and flowers,The butterfliesIn blooming bowers,—
These things amid,
The birds and flowers,
The butterflies
In blooming bowers,—
All these are fair,—And yet more blestArt thou, dear Ann,On mother’s breast.
All these are fair,—
And yet more blest
Art thou, dear Ann,
On mother’s breast.
’Tis Love, dear child,That makes thee so,And Heaven is Love,—That’s all we know.
’Tis Love, dear child,
That makes thee so,
And Heaven is Love,—
That’s all we know.