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THE THREE SONS.
he will say.
O! should my gentle child be spared to manhood's years like
me, A holier and a wiser man I trust that he will be: And when I look into his eyes, and stroke his thoughtful
brow, I dare not think what I should feel were I to lose him now.
I have a son, a second son : a simple child of three,
I do not think his light blue eye is like his brother's keen,
vealing. When he walks with me, the country folk, who pass us in the
street, Will shout for joy, and bless my boy, he looks so mild and
is like sunshine sent to gladden home and hearth, To comfort us in all our griefs, and sweeten all our mirth. Should he grow up to riper years, God grant his heart may
prove As sweet a home for heavenly grace as now for earthly love: And if, beside his grave, the tears our aching eyes must dim, God comfort us for all the love which we shall lose in him.
I have a son,
I cannot tell, For they reckon not by months and years, where he is gone to
dwell. To us, for fourteen anxious months, his infant smiles were given, And then he bade farewell to earth, and went to live in heaven. I cannot tell what form his is, what looks he weareth now, Nor guess how bright a glory crowns his shining seraph brow, The thoughts that fill bis sinless soul, the bliss which he doth
feel, Are number'd with the secret things which God will not
reveal. But I know (for God hath told me this) that he is now at rest, Where other blessed infants be, on their Saviour's loving