The vision of Cortes, Cain, and other poems | ||
[Sweetness, and gamesome images, surround]
Sweetness, and gamesome images, surroundThy rest, young pilgrim!—pleasant breezes come,
And bear the odors of the blossoming ground,
And flap their wings above thy cheek's rich bloom!
And, O! that life may glide away with thee,
In infantile enjoyments!—while I pray,
Above thy baby-couch, that thou may'st be
Guarded by angels, innocent as they,
I would deny thee all the hopes that crowd
O'er childhood's pranking hours. Thou should'st not dream
Of aught in store, where childhood could be proud—
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To dazzle thee in the far coming years,
When life may be all bitterness and tears.
The vision of Cortes, Cain, and other poems | ||