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this morning I have planted a myrtel at the door of my
darling son tomb with the weeping willow, I stood pensive
without uttering a word wile the tears roll down my
cheek, I dwell on narrated some words of my son he came
to me one afternoon and said Mother you will mourn
When I am gone, I maid no reply for I thought he would
out live me, but my heart was breaking within me
God had graciously concealed from my view the days of
sorrow, which in his wise counsel were to come.
Then shall we contemplate again, in a better world,
when the sleep pf death shall have closed my eyes,
him whose loss we now lament: and then shall we
rejoice with him in that Eternal Savious jesus christ,
under the shade of a weeping willow, planted over the
tomb of Daniel Ingalls.