html website builder

A little face all wreathed in smiles,
A little forehead crowned with gold;
A blossom gathered from the skies,
The Father gave to us to hold;
A dainty thing so pink and white,
With eyes forget-me-nots of blue;
God took him from His garden, where
The fairest of His flowers grew.


And then the angels kissed his cheeks,
And dimples straightaway appeared;
The kindly sun bestowed a smile
Upon the blossom God had reared.
Then silently the angels came,
When all the world had gone to rest;
And in the morning when we woke
We found the flower on mother's breast.