Infants’ Graves

Infant' graves are steps of angels
Where Earth's brightest gems of innocence repose
God is their parent, and they need no tear
He takes them to His bosom from earth's woes

A bud their lifetime and a flower their close
Their spirits are an iris
Needing no prayers, a sunset's happy
Gone are the bright rays of their eyes

And the sun smiled to show their end was well
Infants have to weep for here they die
All prayers are needless, beads they need not tell
White flowers their mourners are, their passing bell

And the sun smiled to show their end was well
Infants have to weep for here they die

Their lives were nothing but a shower
Melting away tears from the eye
Their deaths were dew-drops on Heaven's bower
And tolled on Summer gales
They bowed and trembled
And they left no sigh

Christ, Thy name is Panzer!