LITTLE sister! she is gone
To her loving Saviour’s breast;
There with those who wait the morning
Of a never ending rest.
Little sister! she is now
With the angels bright and fair,
And with those who love the Saviour:
O how glorious to be there!
Father, mother, do not cry,
That our sister went away;
God has sent a shining angel,
Just as I have heard you say.
And he goes as children go,
Gathering the flowers they love;
So he gathers little children
To the beauteous home above.
We will go and see the grave
Where our little sister lies,
Plant it all with flowers to blossom
Underneath the summer skies.
When the flowers blow white and red,
There we will kneel down and pray
To the Lord who gave our sister,
Who hath taken her away.