You dwelt beneath my longing heart,
cherished and soft and warm.
And though you won't go home with me
Where you are, there'll be no harm.
For such a very little while
was my poor heart your home,
and then you left me, precious one,
in Heaven's fields to roam.
No tears shall ever dim you eyes,
no heartache pain you sore,
no sin will stain your lovely soul,
So, Sweet, I will not grieve too much;
not hopeless are my tears.
You there, I here, both loved by God,
both safe through flying years.
And He who carries tenderly
the wee lambs on His breast
Will one day give you back to me,
rapture undreamed, unguessed.
*Martha Snell Nicholson, c 1951