The first grief
Tuesday, September 14, 2021
Oh I call my brother back to me,
I cannot play alone,
“the summer comes with
Flowers and bee
Where is my brother gone?
The butterfly is glazing bright
Across the sunbeam’s track
Care not now to chase its fight
Oh I call my brother back.
“the flowers run wild- the flowers we sowed
Around our garden free.
Our line is dropping with its load
Oh I call him back to me.
He would not hear my voice, fair child
He may not come to three.
The face that one like spring- time smiled
On earth no more thou LT it see.
A rose brief bright light of joy.
Such up to him was given
Go- through I must play alone,
Oh brother come back.
Are all our wondering o’ Er?
Oh while my brother let me played would I
Have love him more.
s