Nay, weep not, dearest, though the child be dead; 
He lives again in Heaven's unclouded life, 
With other angels that have early fled 
From these dark scenes of sorrow, sin, and strife. 
Nay, weep not, dearest, though thy yearning love 
Would fondly keep for earth its fairest flowers, 
And e'en deny to brighter realms above 
The few that deck this dreary world of ours: 
Though much it seems a wonder and a woe 
That one so loved should be so early lost, 
And hallowed tears may unforbidden flow 
To mourn the blossom that we cherished most, 
Yet all is well; God's good design I see, 
That where our treasure is, our hearts may be!