 | The Poetical Works of Caroline Bowles Southey |  |
With what a thankful gladness in his face
(Silent heart-homage—plant of special grace!),
At the lane's entrance, slackening oft his pace,
Would Ambrose send a loving look before;
Conceiting the caged blackbird at the door,
The very blackbird strained its little throat
In welcome with a more rejoicing note;
And honest Tinker, dog of doubtful breed,
All bristle, back, and tail, but “good at need,”
Pleasant his greeting to the accustomed ear;
But of all welcomes, pleasantest, most dear,
The ringing voices, like sweet silver bells,
Of his two little ones. How fondly swells
The father's heart, as, dancing up the lane,
Each clasps a hand in her small hand again,
And each must tell her tale, and “say her say,”
Impeding, as she leads, with sweet delay
(Childhood's blest thoughtlessness) his onward way.
(Silent heart-homage—plant of special grace!),
At the lane's entrance, slackening oft his pace,
Would Ambrose send a loving look before;
Conceiting the caged blackbird at the door,
202
In welcome with a more rejoicing note;
And honest Tinker, dog of doubtful breed,
All bristle, back, and tail, but “good at need,”
Pleasant his greeting to the accustomed ear;
But of all welcomes, pleasantest, most dear,
The ringing voices, like sweet silver bells,
Of his two little ones. How fondly swells
The father's heart, as, dancing up the lane,
Each clasps a hand in her small hand again,
And each must tell her tale, and “say her say,”
Impeding, as she leads, with sweet delay
(Childhood's blest thoughtlessness) his onward way.
| The Poetical Works of Caroline Bowles Southey | |