Alas! dear child, too soon indeed,

Thy tide of life has sped;

And all our fondly cherished hopes,

Of joy! from thee have fled!

Bright hope of joy in future years,

Thy morn of promise gave;

But now the icy sward is laid,

Upon thy early grave!

The world moves on, thy little mates

Are joyful now with play,

Nor heed that then their favorite one,

From earth has pass’d away!

A passing tear! a parting sigh!

Their tender hearts may heave;

But life is all too new to them,

But transiently, to grieve!

Thy mother! O, thy mother’s love!

How constant round thy bed,

With throbbing heart! with trembling hand!

She pillow’d oft thy head;

But pain shall ne’er assail thee more,

Nor sickness shade thy brow!

We must not wish thee back again!

For thou art happy now.

Farewell, dear boy! Thy spotless life

Was quickly o’er and past!

Yet many a beam of light and joy,

Were in thy pathway cast.

Thy spirit was not destined here,

A longer time to dwell!

Farewell, dear Woodbridge! lovely child;

’Till God’s own time, farewell!