Classic Poem

With rosebuds in my hand,
Fresh from the Summer-land,
Father, I come and stand
Close by your side.
You cannot see me here,
Or feel my presence near,
And yet your " Birdie " dear
Never has died.

O, no: for angels bright,
Out of the blessed light,
Shone on my wondering sight,
Singing, " We come!
Lamb for the fold above —
Tender, young, nestling dove —
Safe in our arms of love,
Haste to thy home. "

Mother! I could not stay;
In a sweet dream I lay,
Wafted to Heaven away,
Far from the night;
Then, with a glad surprise,
Did I unclose my eyes,
Under those cloudless skies,
Smiling with light!

O! were you with me there,
Free from your earthly care,
All of my joy to share,
I were more blest.
But it is best to stay
Here in the earthly way,
Till the good angels say,
" Come to your rest! "

Check, then, the falling tear;
Think of me still as near.
Father and mother dear,
Soon on that shore,
Where all the loved ones meet,
Resting your pilgrim feet,
Shall you with blessings greet
" Birdie " once more.