The Mother’s Kiss of Her Dead Child

Image from The Burns Archive

[ORIGINAL.]

The Mother’s Kiss of Her Dead Child.

The kiss of Friends, who meet to part,
Or welcome their return,
Is sweet, and grateful to the heart,
Where kind affections burn.

The kiss, which faithful Lovers claim,
Is fonder and more true;
And, while it feeds the mutual flame,
It seals their vows anew.

Still more sincere, the Parent’s kiss,
That bathes the Infant cheek,
Imparts and draws a kindred bliss,
Which language cannot speak;

But far most sacred and most dear,
Of all most undefiled,
The mother’s kiss, who, with a tear,
Imprints it on her child.

Her child, who sleeps in death’s embrace,
Her lips to feel no more, —
If aught could warm its icy face,
That kiss would life restore;

And, if its spirit hover’d nigh,
This proof of holy love,
The richest blessing would supply,
Its wings could bear above.

If angels sought with purpose mild,
Earth’s purest scene to know,
The mother, kissing her dead child,
That spectacle would show.

Cherryfield, October, 1843.

Bangor Daily Whig and Courier (Bangor, Maine) Oct 26, 1843

Image from The Burns Archive

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One Response to “The Mother’s Kiss of Her Dead Child”

  1. Peterg Says:

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