 | Poems (1857) |  |
THE FIRST PRAYER.
I
Tell me, oh! ye stars of night—In the ages ye have seen,
Aught more gentle, mild, and bright,
Aught more dear to angels' sight,
Hath there been;
Or more innocent and fair,
Than an infant's earliest prayer?
II
Tell me, oh! ye flowers that meetBy the valley or the stream,
Have ye incense half so sweet,—
Fragrance in your rich retreat,—
That ye deem
Half so dear to Heaven's care,
As an infant's quiet prayer?
184
III
Speak, and tell me, thou, oh! Time,From the coming of the Word,
Aught more holy, more sublime,
From the heart of any clime,
Hast thou heard,
Than the voice ascending there,
Than that lowly infant's prayer?
| Poems (1857) | |