Son Of Mr. Morris Collins, Died At Wethersfield, September 5Th, 1862, Aged 3 Months And 27 Days. It Was A Sad And Lovely Sight They Call'D Us To Behold, That Infant Forehead High And Fair, Those Beauteous Features Sculptured Rare, Yet Breathless All, And Cold. Heard It In Dreams, An Angel Voice Soft As The Zephyr'S Tone? The Yearning Of A Mother Mild To Clasp Once More Her Three Months' Child But A Few Days Her Own? Just A Few Days Of Wasting Pain She Linger'D By Its Side, And Then Consign'D To Stranger Arms The Frail Unfolding Of The Charms She Would Have Watch'D With Pride. Yet Happy Babe! To Reach A Home Beyond All Sorrowing Cares, Where None A Mother'S Loss Can Moan Or Seek For Bread, And Find A Stone, Or Fall In Fatal Snares. Thrice Happy,--To Have Pass'D Away Ere Time'S Sore Ills Invade,-- From Fragrant Buds That Drooping Shed Their Life-Sigh O'Er Thy Coffin-Bed-- To Flowers That Never Fade.