Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/To an Infant

To an Infant.

Sweet infant, when I gaze on thee, And mark thy spirit's bounding lightness.Thy laugh of playful ecstasy, Thy glance of animated brightness,How beautiful the light appears Of Reason in her first revealings;How blest the boon of opening years, Unclouded hopes, unwithered feelings!

Thou hast not felt ambition's thrall, Thou dost not sigh for absent treasures,Thy dark eye beams in joy on all, Simple and artless are thy pleasures;And should a tear obscure thy bliss, I know the spell to soothe thy sadness,The magic of thy father's kiss Can soon transform thy grief to gladness!

The world, my fair and frolic boy, May give thy feelings new directions,But may its changes ne'er destroy The fervour of thy warm affections!Still may thy glad contented eyes Smile on each object they are meeting,Yet, most of earthly blessings, prize A parent's look—a parent's greeting!

And, oh! may He, whose boundless love Excels the ken of human blindness,The wisest father's care above— Beyond the fondest mother's kindness—Teach thy young heart for Him to glow; Thy ways from sin and sorrow sever,And guide thy steps in peace below, To realms where peace endures for ever!