Last Wishes of a Child

"All the hedges are in bloom,
And the warm west wind is blowing,
Let me leave this stifled room —
Let me go where flowers are growing.
"Look! my cheek is thin and pale,
And my pulse is very low;
Ere my sight begins to fail,
Take my hand and let us go;
"Was not that the robin's song
Piping through the casement wide?
I shall not be listening long —
Take me to the meadow-side!
"Bear me to the willow-brook —
Let me hear the merry mill —
On the orchard I must look,
Ere my beating heart is still.
"Faint and fainter grows my breath —
Bear me quickly down the lane;
Mother dear, this chill is death —
I shall never speak again!"
Still the hedges are in bloom,
And the warm west wind is blowing;
Still we sit in silent gloom —
O'er her grave the grass is growing.