Fold the little waxen hands Lightly. Let your warmest tears Speak regrets, but never fears, -- Heaven understands! Let the sad heart, o'er the tomb, Lift again and burst in bloom Fragrant with a prayer as sweet As the lily at your feet. Bend and kiss the folded eyes -- They are only feigning sleep While their truant glances peep Into Paradise. See, the face, though cold and white, Holds a hint of some delight E'en with Death, whose finger-tips Rest upon the frozen lips. When, within the years to come, Vanished echoes live once more -- Pattering footsteps on the floor, And the sounds of home, -- Let your arms in fancy fold Little Harlie as of old -- As of old and as he waits At the City's golden gates. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DIRGE FOR A SOLDIER [SEPTEMBER 1, 1862] by GEORGE HENRY BOKER THE FOREFATHER by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON CINQUAIN: MOON-SHADOWS by ADELAIDE CRAPSEY SESTINA OF THE TRAMP ROYAL by RUDYARD KIPLING CREPUSCULE DU MATIN; SONNET by AMY LOWELL BATTLE OF IVRY by THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY A LOVE SONNET by GEORGE WITHER |