Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/256

Books and papers, they learn to their cost,
If "put in order," are fain to be lost,
And though wax-like neatness may reign around,
Yet the things that are wanted can never be found,
And a test of their temper Socratic 't will prove,
If they press through this ordeal in patience and love.
From the grasp of this terrible vixen set free,
How sweet was the scenery of Rose-Mount to me,
When yesterday, soon as my dinner was o'er,
My sunshade I spread, and set off for your door;
And though disappointed that you were away,
Found many bright objects, my walk to repay;
For there, in her own little carriage was seen
Your baby in state, like a young fairy queen,
The lawn with its plants, and spring-blossoms so gay,
And she, in her beauty, more lovely than they.
Then she told, in a voice that like music did melt,
The names of the pair who in paradise dwelt,
And so many fine phrases had learned to repeat,
And each guest with such gentle politeness to greet,
That all were surprised, when her date they surveyed,
That in scarce eighteen months she such progress had made.
As for me, while I gazed on a picture so rare,
The landscape, the child, and the residence fair,
How many, thought I, if their pathway below
Thus sprinkled with gems and with flowerets should glow,
Would be tempted on earth all their treasures to rest,
And ne'er have a sigh fox a region more blest.