The Unconscious Orphan

Mother, I have found a tear
In your eye! How came it here?
More are coming; now they chase
One another down your face.
How I feel your bosom heave!
What does make you sob and grieve?
Let me wipe your tears away,
Or I cannot go to play.
Why is father sleeping so?
Put me down, and let me go—
Let me go, where I can stand
Near enough to reach his hand.
Why! it feels as stiff and cold
As a piece of ice, to hold!
Lift me up to kiss his cheek;
Then, perhaps, he’ll wake and speak.
Mother, oh! it isn’t he,
For he will not look at me!
Father hadn’t cheeks so white!
See, the lips are fastened tight!
Father always spoke and smiled,
Calling me his ‘darling child;’
He would give and ask a kiss,
When I came; but who is this?
If ‘t is father, has he done
Speaking to his little one?
Will he never, never more
Know and love me, as before?
Could he hear what we have said?
Tell me; what is being dead?
O! he does’nt breathe a breath!
Mother, what’s the cause of death?