Shut up that dark and gloomy cave,
There let the black earth lie,
My angel boy required no grave,
He sought his native sky.—

His native sky, where sparkling bright,
His eye leads in the dawn,
And twinkles 'mid the stars of night,
That light the dewy lawn.

When that fair body waned away,
And cruel Death drew nigh,
His glorious soul felt no decay,
Nought dimm'd that lustrous eye.

No monumental stone then rear,
To cheat me of my joy;
In every star that sparkles clear,
I see mine angel boy!