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IV.

This heart indeed were cold

To feeling's gentle sway,

If while thy fairy form I fold,

And those small fingers play

Around my neck, thy face the while
Upraised to catch the wonted smile,
Mine eye could turn away,

Or that calm sullen language wear
That tells of sadness or despair.

V.

I have not darkly roved

O'er Nature's fair domain,

Nor gazed on sun-lit scenes unmoved
In hours of mental pain,
And far less could my soul disown

The light round sinless children thrown
That ne'er can shine again

When years bring guilt, and life no more Is bright and joyous as before.

VI.

I see my own first hours,

While lingering over thine;

I see thee pluck the fresh spring-flowers, An artless wreath to twine;

The same bright hues their beauty yields As those I sought in dewy fields,

When kindred bliss was mine;

And while by memory thus beguiled,
I almost deem myself a child.

VII.

How oft the phantom Care

Hath swiftly passed away,

As some night-bird that may not dare
The morning holy ray,

While half unconsciously mine eye
Hath drank thy charms, till suddenly
I felt the fond smile play

Around my lips, nor could refrain,

But kissed thee o'er and o'er again!

VIII.

I've watched thy little wiles, A thousand times and more, And yet they win my ready smiles As freely as before;

Thy dear, familiar, prattled words

Are sweeter than the songs of birds
On some calm sun-lit shore ;-

Each new grace brings as proud surprize
As lights a star-discoverer's eyes.

IX.

E'en "thrice-told tales" are sweet

That cheerful children tell,

On sounds their lovely lips repeat

The ear for aye could dwell;

Unlike all other things of earth

Their winning ways and sinless mirth

Still hold us as a spell;

In every mood, in every hour

They bear the same enchanting power.

X.

Ah! dearest child, if thou

A child couldst thus remain,

And I for ever gaze as now

On one without a stain

Of earthly guilt or earthly care,

With heart as pure and form as fair

As sainted spirits gain,

Methinks e'en this drear world might seem

A heaven as sweet as man could dream!

XI.

But mortal flowerets grow

'Till all their bright tints fade, And thy maturer bloom must know

The bleak world's tempest-shade ;-
Thine eyes a father's fall shall trace,
His form shall sink before thy face,
And when thine heart hath paid

Its tribute brief of natural tears,

Thou'lt seek awhile what soothes and cheers.

XII.

As I now gaze on thee

E'en thou perchance shall gaze On one whose smiles of guiltless glee The same proud bliss shall raise,

'Till he to sterner manhood grown Shall see thee to the grave go down, And while thy frame decays

Beneath the cold, damp, silent sod,

Shall follow in the track thou'st trod.

XIII.

Alas! how this dim scene

Is fraught with change and death! What countless myriads here have been

To breathe a moment's breath,

Then sink beneath that mortal doom

That makes the wide green earth a tomb, Its flowers a funeral wreath ;

And oh! what countless myriads more

Shall rise and fall ere Time is o'er!

XIV.

One after one we fill

The darkly yawning grave;

On Time's vast ocean never still

Thus wave succeedeth wave,

And all that from the wreck of life,

The change, the tumult and the strife,

The happiest fate may save,

Is but the memory of a dream,

A name, whose glory is a gleam!

XV.

But hence with thoughts like these, (The present still is ours!)

They come like autumn's blighting breeze
Through Summer's leafy bowers ;

Thy glittering eye and sunny brow
Are all my soul shall gaze on now;

And when the future lowers,

I'll think of that celestial clime

Where all things own eternal prime !

R

XVI.

The transitory gloom

Is floating fast away!

I cannot long behold thy bloom
And dream of dull decay ;

And like a sun-burst on the scene

Where April's fitful clouds have been
Is joy's returning ray,

While balm is shed from fancy's wing
Like odours waving spice-boughs fling.

XVII.

Oh, how that fair face glows!

How that small bosom heaves ! Those red lips tremble like the rose

When light airs part the leaves;

A sudden laughter fills thine eye,
And comes as if thou knew'st not why,
As viewless zephyr weaves

The dimples shining waters show

Like those thy cheeks are wearing now!

XVIII.

Oh! spirit-gladdening sight!

Oh! happiness divine!

To feel a father's sacred right,

To call such cherub mine!

A humble name, and lowly state
Have been, and still may be, my fate,

Yet how can I repine

At want of wealth, or fame, or power,

While blest with this fair human flower!

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