She then commenced, and I thought no seraph's voice could be
sweeter, as she sang one of Mary Howitt's beautiful translations:--
"There sitteth a dove so white and fair
All on the lily spray,
And she listeneth how to Jesus Christ
The little children pray;
Lightly she spreads her friendly wings,
And to Heaven's gate hath fled,
And to the Father in Heaven she bears
The prayers which the children have said.
And back she comes from Heaven's gate,
And brings, that dove so mild,
From the Father in Heaven, who hears her speak,
A blessing for every child.
The children lift up a pious prayer--
It hears whatever you say,
That heavenly dove, so white and fair,
All on the lily spray."
I joined heartily in the thanks and admiration the children
expressed when she had finished.
As she laid them in their little beds, and kissed their rosy lips
and dimpled cheeks, she said, "I can never thank God enough for
these sweet children." She then added, "Oh! what an affliction it
must be to lose a child; I think if one of mine should die, I should
die too; but," she added, "I should not say so; could I not trust
them with Him who doeth all things well?" She little realized how
soon she was to be put to the test.
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