WE loved the silky, golden hair,
That played upon his forehead fair ;
The angels loved him, for so rare
Were such pretty locks of hair.
We loved his brilliant, glistening eye,
So keen, so loving, yet so sly ;
The angels loved him too, for why
Should they resist his sparkling eye ?
We loved his laugh, so gayly ringing,
Joy to our loving bosoms bringing ;
The angels joined him in their singing,
So seraph-like his laugh was ringing.
We loved him. Picture of the mother.
Was our sweet bud, our darling brother.
Bright seraphs bore him hence, another
Gem in thy coronet, dear mother.
We love him now. The sweetest flower
That ever saw a sunlight hour,
Has from our bright domestic bower
Been plucked, to be in heaven a flower.
The fragrance of that bud in heaven,
Forth reaching to our hearth-stone even,
Shall, if thy grace, O God, be given,
Win us from earthly flowers to heaven.
