Chapter LXVII: A Night-Watch with a Dead Infant

"Moorest thou thy bark so soon, little voyager? Through those infant eyes, with a prophet's vision, sawest thou life's great battle-field, swarming with fierce combatants? Fell upon thy timid ear the far-off din of its angry strife? Drooped thy head wearily on the bosom of the Sinless, _fearful of earthly taint_? Fluttered thy wings impatiently 'gainst the bars of thy prison-house, sweet bird of Paradise?

"God speed thy flight! No unerring sportsman shall have power to ruffle thy spread pinions, or maim thy soaring wing. No sheltering nest had earth for thee, where the chill wind of sorrow might not blow! No garden of Eden, where the serpent lay not coiled beneath the flowers! No 'Tree of Life,' whose branches might have sheltered thee for aye!

"Warm fall the sunlight on thy grassy pillow, sweet human blossom! Softly fall the night dews on the blue-eyed violet above thee! Side by side with thee are hearts that have long since ceased hoping or aching. There lies the betrothed maiden, in her unappropriated loveliness; the bride, with her head pillowed on golden tresses, whose rare beauty, even the Great Spoiler seemed loth to touch; childhood, but yesterday warm and rosy on its mother's breast; the loving wife and mother, in life's sweet prime; the gray-haired pastor, gone to his reward; the youth of crisped locks and brow unfurrowed by care; the heartbroken widow, and tearful orphan, all await with folded hands, closed eyes, and silent lips, alike with thee, the resurrection morn."