Go to thy rest, fair child!

Go to thy dreamless bed,

While yet so gentle, undefiled,

With blessings on thy head.

2 Fresh roses in thy hand,

Buds on thy pillow laid,

Haste from this dark and fearful land,

Where flowers so quickly fade.

3 Before thy heart had learned

In waywardness to stray;

Before thy feet had ever turned

The dark and downward way;

4 Ere sin had seared the breast,

Or sorrow woke the tear;

Rise to thy throne of changeless rest,

In yon celestial sphere!

5 Because thy smile was fair,

Thy lip and eye so bright,

Because thy loving cradle care

Was such a dear delight;

6 Shall love, with weak embrace,

Thy upward wing detain?

No! gentle angel, seek thy place

Amid the cherub train.