Eight Times the Earth Went 'Round the Sun

Eight times the earth went ‘round the sun - Our world had only just begun To know a parent’s joy; To have and hold and kiss a face, And feel a child’s sweet warm embrace While under God’s employ. The time we had was brief but bright With toys and games and walks at night, And pitches on the lawn; What zest for life he showed so well, Who ran in fields like a gazelle Or like the nimblest fawn. But then one day a storm arose, And struck our child from head to toes From fever and a chill; In haste the doctors tested him, Which proved his chance to live was slim With no known cure or pill. O precious child who lay in bed, With wrinkled brow and fevered head, A rose among wild flowers; We came to him and held his hand, And kissed his face where tears did land On cheeks for many hours. I still recall the words my son Spoke last as I had just begun To brighten up his room; “Do not be sad. I’m here with God With clothes so white and joy abroad, Forever from this gloom.” Right then his life was taken there, Assuring us not to despair Of where his soul was sent; And now we wait upon the Lord - While trusting Him in deed and word, As our lives now are spent.