ADIEU, sweet little one,
From all thy sufferings free,
How could we wish to keep thee here,
The Lord has gathered thee.
Like some fair tender plant,
Plucked from its parent stem,
Transplanted to a richer soil,
To bloom in heaven again.
It seems but yesterday
We listened with delight,
To hear thy little prattling tongue
Some childish tale recite.
Ah, little did we think
How soon that voice would cease,
Sickness came in and laid thee low,
A victim to disease.
And then with grief we saw
Thou wert not long for earth,
And knew thou shortly must return
To Him who gave thee birth.
And so indeed it was,
Thy sufferings here were brief,
For He who doeth all things well
Soon brought thee sweet relief.
We saw thy wasted frame
Grow weaker every day,
And soon the joyful summons came
To call thy soul away.
And now thy little bark
Is moored on yonder shore,
And that sweet voice we loved so well
Is heard on earth no more.
But hark! ’tis heard on high,
Amid the white-robed throng;
That silvery voice shall ever sing
The “new eternal song.”
A loving Saviour’s breast
Henceforth thy home shall be,
Adieu, sweet child, it is enough,
The Lord has gathered thee.
Rejoice ye mourning ones,
Your child is happy now,
No gloomy cloud shall ever pass
Across that fair young brow.
Soon shall you meet again,
Where parting is no more,
And she among the first shall stand
To welcome you on shore.