MY BOYS GRAVE.
{"newspaper_name": "The Wilmingtonian, and Delaware register.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
We visited thy grave my child!


Last night, thy mother and i;
We saw it clad with spring flowers wild,
The bed where thou dost lie.
We thought of all that's bright and fair.
As false and fleeting too;
We look'd on thy grassy turf, and there
We saw that death is true.
And memory told of every smile,


Each look was dear rs ever;
Time may mothers grief beguile.
Blot out that look'-O never!
IT'S hers within the hearts recess,
To all but heaven unknown
To cherish its image and to bless


The spotless cherub flown.
We had mark'd thy beauties stealing on,
AS We nourishd the tender flower;
We, trembling, lov'd our little one,


For frail is childhood's hour.
And as we kiss'd thy infant brow,


And clasp'd thee oft, the fear
ofparting, wrung our bosoms, but now
'I'is over,-thou art not here.
Our dreams of thee were gay, my boy.


We have wept those visions fed
But now the healing tears ofjoy,


Are given to the dead;
From dying friends, from griefs and all


OF existence rude alarms,
thus frce-who can lament the call,


Sweet one! to thy Fathers arms'