 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
261
MARY.—1838.
Lo, Thou hast crown'd me with another blessing,Into my lot hast dropt one mercy more:—
All good, all kind, all wise in Thee possessing,
My cup, O bounteous Giver, runneth o'er,
And still Thy hand doth without ceasing pour!
For the sweet fruit of undecaying love
Clusters in beauty round my cottage door,
And this new little one, like Noah's dove,
Comes to mine ark with promise from above:
O happy home, O light and cheerful hearth!
Look round with me, in thankfulness, O wife,
On such fair faces we have lit with life,
For Grace doth add this blessing to their birth,
That these be children both of heaven and earth.
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