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النشر الإلكتروني

42

POWER OF MATERNAL PIETY.

I plucked a fair white rose, and stole

To lay it by her side, And thought strange sleep enchained her soul,

For no fond voice replied.

That eve I knelt me down in woe,

And said a lonely prayer ;
Yet still my temples seemed to glow

As if that hand were there.

Years fled, and left me childhood's joy,

Gay sports and pastimes dear; I rose a wild and wayward boy,

Who scorned the curb of fear.

Youth came--the props of virtue reeled ;

But oft, at day's decline,
A marble touch my brow congealed-

Blessed mother, was it thine ?

In foreign lands I travelled wide,

My pulse was bounding high,
Vice spread her meshes at my side,

And pleasure lured my eye;

Yet still that hand, so soft and cold,

Maintained its mystic sway,
As when, amid my curls of gold,

With gentle force it lay.

THE NEW BORN.

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And, with it, breathed a voice of care,

As from the lowly sod, “My son—my only one-beware!

Nor sin against thy God.”

That hallowed touch was ne'er forgot I

And now, though time hath set His frosty seal upon my lot,

These temples feel it yet.

And, if I e'er in heaven appear,

A mother's holy prayer,
A mother's hand, and gentle tear,
That pointed to a Saviour dear,

Have led the wanderer there.

SIGOURNEY.

THE NEW BORN.

TO HER BROTHER'S CHILD.

A BLESSING on thy head, thou child of many hopes

and fears! A rainbow-welcome thine hath been, of mingled

smiles and tears. Thy father greets thee unto life, with a full and

chastened heart, For a solemn gift from God thou com’st, all

precious as thou art !

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I see thec not asleep, fair boy, upon thy mother's

breast, Yet well I know how guarded there shall be thy

rosy rest : And how her soul with love, and prayer, and

gladness, will o'erflow, While bending o'er thy soft-sealed eyes, thou

dear one, well I know.

A blessing on thy gentle head! and bless'd thou

art in truth, For a home where God is felt, awaits thy child

hood and thy youth; Around thee pure and holy thoughts shall dwell

as light and air, And steal unto thine heart, and wake the germs

now folded there.

Smile on thy mother! while she feels that un

to thee is given, In that young day-spring glance, the pledge of a

soul to rear for heaven! Smile! and sweet peace be. o'er thy sleep, joy

o'er thy wakening shed ! Blessings and blessings ever more, fair boy ! upon

thy head!

HEMANS,

THE CHRISTIAN INTERCEDING.

Fain, O my child, I'd have thee know

The God whom angels love ;
And teach thee feeble strains below,

Akin to theirs above.

0, when thy lisping tongue shall read

Of truths divinely sweet,
May'st thou, a little child indeed,

Sit down at Jesus' feet.

I'll move thine ear, I'll point thine eye,

But, ah! the inward part-
Great God, the Spirit ! hear the sigh

That trembles through my heart.

Break, with thy vital beam benign,

O'er all the mental wild !
Bright o'er the human chaos shine,

And sanctify my child.

VOKE.

CHANTREY'S SLEEPING CHILDREN.

Look at those sleeping children /-softly tread, Lest thou do mar their dream; and come not

nigh Till their fond mother, with a kiss shall cry,“ 'Tis morn, awake! awake !”—Ah! they are

dead! Yet, folded in each others arms, they lieSo still—oh, look! so still and smilingly; So breathing and so beautiful they seem, As if to die in youth were but to dream Of spring and flowers !-of flowers ? yet nearer

stand; Here is a lily in one little hand, Broken, but not faded yet, As if its cup with tears was wet ! So sleeps that child,—not faded, tho' in death; And seeming still to hear her sister's breath, As when she first did lay her head to rest, Gently on that sister's breast, And kiss'd her, ere she fell asleep! Th’ Archangel's trump alone shall wake that

slumber deep. O’er these sweet children, that so sculptured rest, A sister's head upon a sister's breast,

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