Walter Savage Landor (1775–1864)

CHILD of a day, thou knowest not

The tears that overflow thine urn,

The gushing eyes that read thy lot,

Nor, if thou knewest, couldst return!

And why the wish! the pure and blessed

Watch like thy mother o’er thy sleep.

O peaceful night! O envied rest!

Thou wilt not ever see her weep.