Susie.
“ A
little girl has died,” they say—1
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 know—25
Only sixteen ;26
And on God’s High Row, where angels go,27
She smiles between.28