1 As the sweet flower that scents the morn,
But withers in the rising day;
Thus lovely was this infant's dawn,
Thus swiftly fled its life away.
2 It died ere its expanding soul
Had ever burnt with wrong desires,
Had ever spurned at Heaven's control,
Or ever quenched its sacred fires.
3 It dies to sin, it died to cares,
But for a moment felt the rod:--
O mourner! such, the Lord declares,
Such are the children of our God!
A Collection of Psalms and Hymns for Christian Worship, 1830