Pocahontas and Other Poems (New York)/The Young Mother

by Lydia Huntley Sigourney

THE YOUNG MOTHER.

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There sat upon the parent's knee,
    In love supremely bless'd,
An infant, fair and full of glee,
    Caressing and caress'd,
While siren Hope, with gladness wild,
    And eye cerulean blue,
Bent sweetly down to kiss the child,
    And bless the mother too.

Then Memory came, with serious mien,
    And, looking back the while,
Cast such a shadow o'er the scene
    As dimm'd Affection's smile;
For still to Fancy's brightest hours
    She gave a hue of care,
And bitter odours tinged the flowers
    That wreathed her sunny hair.

But in the youthful mother's soul
    Each cloud of gloom was brief,
Too pure her raptured feelings roll
    To take the tint of grief;
Firm Faith around her idol boy
    Its radiant mantle threw,
And claim'd for him a higher joy
    Than Hope or Memory knew.