University of Virginia Library

Children and Mother.

I John, 1:4.

Isn't it noble children dear,
To have a mother's voice to hear,
A mother to honor and to love,
And watch that you the right way rove?
Once 'pon a time, I was a child,
And I enjoyed a mother's smile,
Since she's gone to a happy home,
I have felt at times all alone,
But your influence now I feel
Gently across my senses steal,
And undefined, resistless spells,
Bring to me thoughts I cannot tell.
I feel her breath upon my cheek,
And from your letters hear her speak.
Seraphic sounds, more sweetly dear,
Than when from her they met my ear.
Dreams of you, dear children, keep
Your vigils 'round me while I sleep,
And wiping off the sorrowing tears,
Bring back the thoughts of other years.
Bright are the joys your spells create,
They place our minds in happy state,
For music's charm is weak and faint,
To that which children's love can paint.
But now I will not take your time,
For thou art mine, and mine are thine;
Thine by creation's mystic skill,
Which formed and doth sustain us still,
Thine by the more endearing love,
Which sent a Savior from above,
Our souls to save, our lives to bless
With hopes of untold happiness.