Stanzas (My sweet little cherub)

My sweet little cherub, how calm thou'rt reposing
Thy suffering is over, thy mild eye is closing ;
This world hath proved to thee a step-dame unfriendly:
But rest thee, my babe, there's a spirit within thee.
A mystery thou art, though unblest and unshriven —
A thing of the earth, and a radiance of Heaven ;
A flower of the one, thou art fading and dying —
A spark of the other, thou'rt mounting and flying.

Farewell, my sweet baby, too early we sever ;
I may come to thee, but to me thou shalt never.
Some angel of mercy shall lead and restore thee,
A pure living flame, to the mansions of glory.
The moralist's boast may sound prouder and prouder,
The hypocrite's prayer rise louder and louder;
But I'll trust my babe, in her trial of danger,
To the mercy of Him that was laid in the manger.