Poems.
47
Would such firm order be displayed
Where'er our eyes we throw,
If chance created everything
Above, around; below?
Whate'er we see, or hear, or feel,
In nature's wide domains,
Proclaims aloud there is a God,
Who all our homage claims.
Where'er our eyes we throw,
If chance created everything
Above, around; below?
Whate'er we see, or hear, or feel,
In nature's wide domains,
Proclaims aloud there is a God,
Who all our homage claims.
TO A LITTLE BOY.
Sweet little child, with thy laughing eyes;
And lofty brow so fair,
In thy tiny form a treasure lies,
That 's well deserving care.
It is that magic thing, called mind,
In embryo now in thee;
A few years hence, we 'll surely find,
A valued gem 't will be.
And lofty brow so fair,
In thy tiny form a treasure lies,
That 's well deserving care.
It is that magic thing, called mind,
In embryo now in thee;
A few years hence, we 'll surely find,
A valued gem 't will be.
And may thy heart full well repay
Thy parent's anxious toil;
For they will guide thee day by day,
And plant thy mental soil.
Thy parent's anxious toil;
For they will guide thee day by day,
And plant thy mental soil.
