Mother and Child

"Mother, why weepest thou ever For my little sister fair? She is now in heaven's kingdom— Ah, it must be wondrous there!"

"Yes, she is in heaven's glory, But in heaven's own land, alas! There are no butterflies nor flowers— Nor meadows of velvet grass!"

"But mother, God's blessed angels There, rejoicing sing to Him!" Forth from the sunset's rosy fires Now cometh the midnight dim.

Ah, the mother wants her baby— That she watched from the window wide, When 'mid butterflies and blossoms She played in the meadow's pride!