O dearest Cherub of my heart!
On whom my fondest memory lingers,
How sad it was from thee to part!
No more to kiss thy lips and fingers.
How lovely o’er thy waxen face,
Enchanting as an angel’s story,
I saw thy smile of peace and grace
That shone with pure celestial glory!
I know that thou art happy now
With Jesus in his garden vernal,
With crown and chaplet on thy brow
And living bloom of life eternal.
For often thou dost visit me
And bring a comfort sweet and cheering
As I thy loving presence see
Through faith’s eternal power appearing.
No more I’ll grieve o’er thy fair form
For which I’m called for age to sever;
I meet thee in the spirit warm
And we are closer now than ever.
(Aaron Southwick)
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