 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
60
Molly
To you who cannot trust your feet
To start on life's uneasy way,
Although you boast one year complete,
I offer this first birthday lay:
May gracious beams around you play,
And Love look down from tender skies,
When once you totter forth, I pray,
My darling of the wistful eyes.
To start on life's uneasy way,
Although you boast one year complete,
I offer this first birthday lay:
May gracious beams around you play,
And Love look down from tender skies,
When once you totter forth, I pray,
My darling of the wistful eyes.
As you are wheeled along the street,
Kind strangers, passing, sometimes stay
Your fair, unconscious face to greet—
“How like a flower she is,” they say.
Oh, may you bloom, 'neath sunny ray!
May no unpitying storm arise
To dash your brightly opening day,
My darling of the wistful eyes.
Kind strangers, passing, sometimes stay
Your fair, unconscious face to greet—
“How like a flower she is,” they say.
Oh, may you bloom, 'neath sunny ray!
May no unpitying storm arise
To dash your brightly opening day,
My darling of the wistful eyes.
And when the town is faint with heat,
And fields are fragrant with the hay,
Welcome to our embowered retreat
Of latticed shade and dancing spray;
And let your untried footsteps stray
Where, on the daisies, sunshine lies,
And learn from them a lesson gay,
My darling of the wistful eyes.
And fields are fragrant with the hay,
Welcome to our embowered retreat
Of latticed shade and dancing spray;
And let your untried footsteps stray
Where, on the daisies, sunshine lies,
And learn from them a lesson gay,
My darling of the wistful eyes.
In life's fresh dawn or noontide grey,
As you are sweet, may you be wise,
And win the joys that last for aye,
My darling of the wistful eyes!
As you are sweet, may you be wise,
And win the joys that last for aye,
My darling of the wistful eyes!
| Lyra Pastoralis | |