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THE YOUNG MOTHER.
And lighting up her pale and placid face
As beautifully as the sunlight glows
And trembles through a holy crystal fane.
Close to her breast, her gently throbbing breast,
Her young babe nestles as a thought of love
Clings to the human soul. One little hand
Is pressed in hers, and now a soft sweet smile
Is stealing o'er its lovely cherub-face.
Gently she whispers to it of its dear
And absent father, and the tear-drop bright
Is quivering on her eyelid like the dew
On the blue violet's petal. And when soft
Sweet slumber folds its calm, mysterious wing
Upon her cherub's little breast, its quick
Low breathings fall upon her listening ear
Like notes of heaven.
As beautifully as the sunlight glows
And trembles through a holy crystal fane.
Close to her breast, her gently throbbing breast,
Her young babe nestles as a thought of love
Clings to the human soul. One little hand
Is pressed in hers, and now a soft sweet smile
Is stealing o'er its lovely cherub-face.
Gently she whispers to it of its dear
And absent father, and the tear-drop bright
Is quivering on her eyelid like the dew
On the blue violet's petal. And when soft
Sweet slumber folds its calm, mysterious wing
Upon her cherub's little breast, its quick
Low breathings fall upon her listening ear
Like notes of heaven.
Young mother, 'tis thy first
Bright joy, thy first deep care—oh may it prove
Thy latest blessing. Since we parted last
Full many changes have passed o'er our lives,
Bright joy, thy first deep care—oh may it prove
Thy latest blessing. Since we parted last
Full many changes have passed o'er our lives,
