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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


MIMMA BELLA; IN MEMORY OF A LITTLE LIFE: 4 by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON

First Line: OH, ROSY AS THE LINING OF A SHELL
Last Line: TO WAKE THE SLEEP-STRUCK PLAYGROUND OF THE DEAD.
Subject(s): DEATH - CHILDREN; DEATH - BABIES;

Oh, rosy as the lining of a shell
Were the wee hands that now are white as snows;
And like pink coral, with their elfin toes,
The feet that on life's brambles never fell.

And with its tiny smile, adorable
The mouth that never knew life's bitter sloes;
And like the incurved petal of a rose
The little ear, now deaf in Death's strong spell.

Now, while the seasons in their order roll,
And sun and rain pour down from God's great dome,
And deathless stars shine nightly overhead,

Near other children, with her little doll,
She waits the wizard that will never come
To wake the sleep-struck playground of the dead.



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