Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/On a Sleeping Infant

by Lydia Sigourney

ON A SLEEPING INFANT.

O CHILD of innocence and bliss,
    And gentle mirth, and joy benign,

Fond friendship's wish, affection's kiss,
    And warm solicitude are thine.

If ever from yon vaulted sky,
    Angelic hosts to earth descend,
On thee they sure would cast an eye,
    And o'er thine infant slumbers bend.

For no dark deeds of guilt or shame,
    Of falsehood, arrogance, or strife,
Of cruel pride, or cold disdain,
    Have ever mark'd thy spotless life.

I, stopping in the giddy maze
    Of youth, to catch a smile from thee,
And pleas'd to look upon the days
    Of careless, guiltless infancy;

Perceive as with a vision'd eye,
    The throngs of care, and woe, and dread,
Which pressing on in sable dye,
    Are hovering round thy cradle bed.

Sternly, impatiently they wait,
    The time when thou shalt be their prey,
For well they know this peaceful state
    Excludes their proud and bitter sway.

Could she, who with a mother's love,
    Thy pliant form has just embrac'd,

But see the woes that thou must prove,
    The bitterness which thou shalt taste;

The nameless pangs thine heart must know,
    The anguish that will fright thy sleep,
Her smile would sicken into woe,
    And she would seek alone to weep.

O thou, who thus the eye hast veil'd,
    The book of fate so slowly given,
I thank thee, that thou hast conceal'd
    From man the prescience of heaven.

Ah, when upon thy troubled soul,
    The ills of life shall closely press,
May resignation's meek control,
    Allay the tumult of distress.

For often in affliction's school,
    Though the sad heart perceives it not,
Virtue is gain'd, and wisdom's rule,
    That never, never is forgot.

When o'er thy fading joys declin'd,
    The sounding waves of sorrow roll,
Perchance, thou then that hope may'st find,
    Which proves an anchor to the soul.

Or should the friends whom thou shalt love,
    Thy fond and fearless heart deceive,

Thou still may'st find a friend above,
    Who never will forsake or grieve.

O child of innocence and bliss,
    And gentle mirth, and joy benign,
Fond friendship's wish, affection's kiss,
    And warm solicitude are thine.

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