263
SONNET.
H! doubly hallowed was thy natal morn,My precious babe! the day for ever blest,
Which God himself hath sanctified; the rest
For weary hearts with toil and trouble worn;
And on that day, the angel's shadowing wings
Bade Judah's holy Maid prepare to be
Mother of Him, who, though the King of kings,
Yet took the form of man, for man to die.
Oh, dearest child, on all thy path of life
May the calm gladness of a Sabbath day
Be ever shed; and in this world of strife,
Still be it thine, with lowly faith to say,
Like her of old, "Behold thy handmaid, Lord;
"Be it to me according to Thy word."
E.
March 25, 1850.
