588. C. M. H. Bacon. Death of a Child. 1 Thou gavest, and we yield to thee, God of the human heart! For bitter though grief's cup may be, Thou givest but our part. 2 O, thou canst bid our grief be stilled, Yet not rebuke our tears; How large a place his presence filled! How vacant it appears! 3 We mourn the sunshine of his smile, The tendrils of his love; Oh, was he loved too well the while Ere he was called above? 4 Our chastened spirits bow in prayer, And blend all prayers in one, -- Give us the hope to meet him there, When life's full task is done.
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