To a Babe Smiling in her Sleep by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

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Tell me, did the angels greet thee?

Greet my darling when she smiled?

Did they whisper, softly, gently, / Pleasant thoughts unto my child?

Did they whisper, 'mid thy dreaming, / Thoughts that made thy spirit glad?

Of the joy-lighted city, / Where the heart is never sad?

Did they tell thee of the fountains, / Clear as crystal, fair as light, / And the glory-brightened country, / Never shaded by a night?

Of life's pure, pellucid river, / And the tree whose leaves do yield / Healing for the wounded nations -- / Nations smitten, bruised and peeled?

Of the city, ruby-founded, / Built on gems of flashing light, / Paling all earth's lustrous jewels, / And the gates of pearly white?

Darling, when life's shadows deepen / Round thy prison-house of clay, / May the footsteps of God's angels / Ever linger round thy way.

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