62
Poems.
THE SICK BOY.
Tranquil, upon a sofa lay;
A Mother's darling son;
A lovely and a loving child,
Her all, her only one.
Sickness hath dimmed those little eyes,
And paled his infant brow,
And childhood's buoyant spirits, all
Before disease doth bow.
A Mother's darling son;
A lovely and a loving child,
Her all, her only one.
Sickness hath dimmed those little eyes,
And paled his infant brow,
And childhood's buoyant spirits, all
Before disease doth bow.
His mother sits, with anxious care,
Watching her cherished boy,
And fervent praying heaven to bless
Her little earthly joy.
She chides the tardy hours that pass,
Urging their speedier flight,
Her absent husband to restore
To her adoring sight.
Watching her cherished boy,
And fervent praying heaven to bless
Her little earthly joy.
She chides the tardy hours that pass,
Urging their speedier flight,
Her absent husband to restore
To her adoring sight.
Oh! may it be the will of God,
To spare her little flower,
To flourish still, for many a year,
In the parental bower.
To spare her little flower,
To flourish still, for many a year,
In the parental bower.
