TO MY DAUGHTER.

ON HER BIRTHDAY.

I.

DEAR Fanny! nine long years ago,
While yet the morning sun was low,
And rosy with the eastern glow
The landscape smiled;

Whilst low'd the newly-waken'd herds-
Sweet as the early song of birds,
I heard those first, delightful words,
66 Thou hast a child!"

II.

Along with that uprising dew

Tears glisten'd in my eyes, though few,

To hail a dawning quite as new

To me, as Time:

It was not sorrow-not annoy

But like a happy maid, though coy,
With grief-like welcome, even Joy
Forestalls its prime.

III.

So may'st thou live, dear! many years,
In all the bliss that life endears,
Not without smiles, nor yet from tears
Too strictly kept:

When first thy infant littleness
I folded in my fond caress,
The greatest proof of happiness
Was this—I wept.

Sept., 1839.

TO A CHILD

EMBRACING HIS MOTHER.

I.

LOVE thy mother, little one!
Kiss and clasp her neck again,—
Hereafter she may have a son
Will kiss and clasp her neck in vain.
Love thy mother, little one!

II.

Gaze upon her living eyes,

And mirror back her love for thee,--
Hereafter thou may'st shudder sighs
To meet them when they cannot see.
Gaze
upon her living eyes!

III.

Press her lips the while they glow With love that they have often told,— Hereafter thou may'st press in woe, And kiss them till thine own are cold. Press her lips the while they glow!

IV.

Oh, revere her raven hair!
Altho' it be not silver-grey;

Too early Death, led on by Care,
May snatch save one dear lock away.
Oh! revere her raven hair!

V.

Pray for her at eve and morn,

That Heaven may long the stroke defer,---For thou may'st live the hour forlorn When thou wilt ask to die with her.

Pray for her at eve and morn!

STANZAS

I.

FAREWELL Life! my senses swim,
And the world is growing dim:
Thronging shadows cloud the light,
Like the advent of the night—
Colder, colder, colder still,
Upward steals a vapour chill;
Strong the earthy odour grows-
I smell the mould above the rose!

II.

Welcome Life! the Spirit strives!
Strength returns and hope revives;
Cloudy fears and shapes forlorn
Fly like shadows at the morn,-
O'er the earth there comes a bloom;
Sunny light for sullen gloom,
Warm perfume for vapour cold-
I smell the rose above the mould!

April, 1845.