I used to sing this one to the tune of "The Master's Bouquet" – so hard to conceive of a culture where this type of song was offered to loving parents and their off-spring to sing together.

LITTLE ALICE
(In SONGS FOR THE LITTLE ONES AT HOME, published by the American Tract Society in the 1850's)

Dear little Alice has gone to rest,
Where never a sin shall stain her breast;
No trouble disturb her, no fear annoy,
No cloud overshadow her innocent joy.
She lived on this earth but a little while;
She died before we had seen her smile,
But she was our sister, and is so still;
Sweet Alice, we call her, and always will.

We think we are glad she's gone away,
Where her life will be all one pleasant day;
Where an unkind word she'll ne'er receive,
Nor speak one herself, our kind hearts to grieve.
For if she were here now, she would often cry,
And then she'd take sick, suffer and die;
But now death is over, and all the while
Her sweet little face may wear a smile.

For she'll never know, nor do what is wrong,
The angels in heaven will teach her their song;
Dear sister, we wish we could be there too –
Oh, when shall we come and join with you?