 | [Poems by Fields in] The poets of Portsmouth |  |
104
TO MY LITTLE FRIEND AT THE SOUTH END.
Dear Child! what thought or word of mine
Is worthy thy first Valentine?
Those sweet blue eyes, thy witching smile,
(That angel hearts might well beguile,)
Have claims to win from deeper chords
A strain beyond my simple words.
Is worthy thy first Valentine?
Those sweet blue eyes, thy witching smile,
(That angel hearts might well beguile,)
Have claims to win from deeper chords
A strain beyond my simple words.
What shall I wish thee, Baby, fair?
All choicest gifts?—Heaven's kindly care?
Beauty thou hast: a world of love,
Pure as the purest born above,
Lies sleeping in that little face,
In mild repose, in infant grace.
All choicest gifts?—Heaven's kindly care?
Beauty thou hast: a world of love,
Pure as the purest born above,
Lies sleeping in that little face,
In mild repose, in infant grace.
Ah! dearest child! we'll pray that thou
Mayst always smile on us as now;
That years may bring thee added charms;
That love may shield thy path from harms;
And all that's best and bright below
Around thy life-long journey flow.
Mayst always smile on us as now;
That years may bring thee added charms;
That love may shield thy path from harms;
And all that's best and bright below
Around thy life-long journey flow.
So take, Therese, the song I bring;
And when thou'rt old enough to sing,
And pass me by, on some spring day,
When all my locks are dangling gray,
(If haply, far away, my head
Is not then pillowed with the dead,)
Forget not him whose lips to thine
Were pledged to write this Valentine!
And when thou'rt old enough to sing,
And pass me by, on some spring day,
When all my locks are dangling gray,
(If haply, far away, my head
Is not then pillowed with the dead,)
Forget not him whose lips to thine
Were pledged to write this Valentine!
| [Poems by Fields in] The poets of Portsmouth | |