Epitaph On An Infant
Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade,
Death came with friendly care;
The opening bud to heaven conveyed,
And bade it blossom there.
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade,
Death came with friendly care;
The opening bud to heaven conveyed,
And bade it blossom there.
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!