O” child of mine grow no-older

Place your head upon my shoulder
O” child of mine grow no-older.
Less life’s platitudes make you stronger.
Stay with me a little longer!

Misfortune” rings her lowly bell
She’s waiting there to here you, yell.
Solemnly she’s genial but who should tell.
She’d wish all that’s virtuous smote in hell!

O” child of mine grow no-older.
Than the stone Jesus Christ moreover!
Newborn, bold-over...