ON THE BIRTH OF AN INFANT.
97
His fate o'erruled, and He whose word can saveCaused her to draw him from his watery grave,And take him for her own,—that Hebrew boyWhom cruel Pharaoh's mandate would destroy,—
That providence, my babe, can shelter theeFrom all the storms of life's tempestuous sea,And bear thee safely to that happy shoreWhere all its waves and storms can reach no more.
