Classic Poem

With rapture I gaze, for by faith do I see
The child that my Saviour has taken from me,
Secure in his arms in that beautiful place,
A radiance of glory illuming her face;
While He tells of a love on earth below,
It ne'er was the bright fate of mortal to know.
A mansion, blessed babe, and a welcome for thee,
I said, “Let the little ones come unto Me.”
The vision is fading. Thank God for the rest
That steals o'er my worn heart with sorrow oppressed,
Forgetting in grief what our Lord had foretold—
That spirits dwell not in the grave dark and cold.
Ere faded the flowers we placed on her breast
Her soul must have reached its bright haven of rest.
And ever I pray that my portion may be
Where baby—my baby—is waiting for me.