TO MY DAUGHTER MARY, ON HER EIGHTEENTH BIRTH-DAY.
So! leap the limit now that parts
The woman from the child:
Enter life's great career at last,—
No more with toys beguiled.
Earth spreads its pageant at thy feet,
The bright world opens wide,—
Go, be a woman, glad assume
The toils which thee abide!
Or joy, or woe,—no tongue can tell
What fate thy lot may be;
But meet it bravely, strong in faith,
God rules thy destiny.
Like breezes o'er the bending grain,
Like sunlight on the wave,
Earth's rapid joys and trials pass;
Jehovah lives to save.
Go, be a woman; round thy path
Make love and gladness spring;
Reap in all fields; from every task
Some sheaves of goodness bring.
So shall life's current cheerful flow;
So bright shall be thy days;
No flattering words shall make thy fame;
Thy works shall be thy praise.
