 | Sonnets, Lyrics and Translations |  |
16
THE SICK ORPHAN;
OR, THE COUCH IN THE OPEN AIR.
'Twas at the close of a warm summer's day,We spread our orphan's couch in the sweet air;
And she was happy as the healthiest there;
While, with each changing posture, as she lay,
A star, that lurk'd within the whispering firs,
Look'd forth upon her, glistening tenderly;
“How like,” she said, “a mother's watchful eye,
“That wakes and brightens, when her infant stirs!”
She lov'd God's world, that maiden meek and mild;
She challeng'd kith and kin on every hand,
Like Francis of Assisi—that dear child
Spoke sisterly of flowers and song-birds wild;
Till every listener lost his self-command,
And o'er her dying love-notes wept and smil'd!
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