Poems (Toke)/The absent group

by Emma Toke

THE ABSENT GROUP.

AM far from ye, my little ones; I do not hear the sound
Of your tiny voices' music, and your footsteps falling round;
I cannot watch the fairy forms so precious in my sight,
And mark their untamed eagerness, their gushing, wild delight;
Or see them at the evening hour all clustering round my knee,
To breathe a prayer and warble praise with untaught melody;
And then with many a loving kiss and lingering good night,
Receive their mother's blessing, and soon sink in slumber light.
So I will cheer my lonely heart, and while away an hour
By weaving in one wreath of song by turns each cherished flower.

Our firstborn is a gentle girl, a child not six years old,
With thoughtful eyes of deepest blue, and form of graceful mould;
Her first two summers passed away in sickness and in pain,
Jut now—we thank His love who spared—she blooms with health again.
And in her high, expansive brow and earnest eyes appears
A look of serious thoughtfulness, almost beyond her years;
A loving, tender heart she hath, affections gushing o'er,
And a mind that gathers knowledge fast, and ever thirsts for more.
Yet merry as a bird is she. Oh! first and dearest child,
God ever keep thy heart as now, all pure and undefiled!

Next comes the child of many hopes, in truth, a noble boy,
For four short years his little life has glided on in joy:
His loving eyes are brightest blue, his face so sweet and fair
That all his pure and kindly heart seems to be mirrored there.
Blithe, frank, and free, he ever laughs at dangers and at fears,
And yet a sight or tale of woe will melt him into tears.
A noble, generous soul is his, but still so mild and sweet,
That in that little heart the lamb and lion seem to meet.
Oh, precious, precious boy! many a peril thine must be;
May God be still thy Guard and Guide, and angels watch o'er thee.
And next we have a darling one; a sprite not two years old,
With soft blue eyes and skin of snow, and locks of molten gold.
With many a merry frolic and many a winning way,
She steals the hearts of all around, and smiles the livelong day;
A pet and plaything is she, to young and old most dear,
And her silvery voice keeps ringing on, like music in our ear.
Soft and loving is that little soul, if soon with anger swelled;
Yet a word or look will melt to tears, and all her wrath is quelled.
My precious one! through all thy life God keep thee as thou art,
As free from every earthly stain, as pure and true of heart.

And last of all a baby boy, upon whose fair young head
Eight fleeting moons have scarcely yet their silver lustre shed;
With dark blue eyes, and sweetest smile, and face so passing fair,
That the germ of all most noble seems e'en now reflected there.
Oh, cherished child! God grant to thee, should He thy life allow,
To grow in grace as thou hast grown in health and beauty now.
My precious ones! I scarce can tell for which most love I bear,
For each in turn seems dearest, each claims an equal share.
Farewell, until we meet again I only can recall
By night and day your fairy forms, and pray God bless ye all!

E.

February 23, 1844.