I am lucky enough to have in my personal library a book entitled ‘The Mourner’s Friend or Sighs of Sympathy For Those Who Sorrow’. It is a collection of prose and verse compiled to give comfort to the grieving. Edited by J.B. Syme, published in 1852 by S.A. Howland in Worcester, Mass, USA; its contents are predominantly by American authors. My copy of the book has some water damage, ageing paper, and precarious binding, so before it deteriorates my project to preserve the words of the authors will find its way here on the MOLAM blog.
Our Little Brother
WE loved the silky, golden hair,
That played upon his forehead fair;
The angels loved him, – for so rare
Were such sweet pretty locks of hair.
We loved his brilliant, glistening eye,
So keen, so loving, yet so sly ;
The angels loved him too, – for why
Should they resist his sparkling eye?
We loved his laugh, so gayly ringing,
Joy to our loving bosoms bringing;
The angels joined him in their singing,-
So seraph-like his laugh was ringing.
We loved him. Picture of the mother
Was our sweet bud, our darling brother.
Bright seraphs bore him hence, – another
Gem in thy coronet, dear mother.
We love him now. The sweetest flower
That ever saw a sunlight hour,
Has from our bright domestic bower
Been plucked,- to be in heaven a flower.
The fragrance of that bud in heaven,
Forth reaching to our hearth-stone even,
Shall, if thy grace, O God, be given,
Win us from earthly flowers to heaven.