A little girl has died,” they say1
Only sixteen !2
Weep, if ye may—bend low as ye pray3
What does it mean ?”4
But we cannot weep, though the child be dead,5
And hearts beat sore ;6
Life droops unwed, by yon stirless bed,7
By the shadowed door.8
Listen ! God fashioned a house—He said9
Build it with care ;”10
Then softly laid the soul of a maid11
To dwell in there.12
And always He watched it—guarded it so13
Both day and night ;14
The wee soul grew as your lilies do15
Splendid and white.16
It grew, I say, as your lilies grow,17
Tender and tall ;18
Till God smiled “ Now, the house is too low19
For the child, and small.”20
And gently He shut the shutters one night,21
And closed the door ;22
More room and more light to walk upright23
On a Father’s floor.”24
More room and more light for the maid you know25
Only sixteen ;26
And on God’s High Row, where angels go,27
She smiles between.28