Fold The Little Waxen Hands Lightly. Let Your Warmest Tears Speak Regrets, But Never Fears, - Heaven Understands! Let The Sad Heart, O'Er The Tomb, Lift Again And Burst In Bloom Fragrant With A Prayer As Sweet As The Lily At Your Feet. Bend And Kiss The Folded Eyes - They Are Only Feigning Sleep While Their Truant Glances Peep Into Paradise. See, The Face, Though Cold And White, Holds A Hint Of Some Delight E'En With Death, Whose Finger-Tips Rest Upon The Frozen Lips. When, Within The Years To Come, Vanished Echoes Live Once More - Pattering Footsteps On The Floor, And The Sounds Of Home, - Let Your Arms In Fancy Fold Little Harlie As Of Old - As Of Old And As He Waits At The City'S Golden Gates.