T is a sight the heart to thrill

With many a thought of early years;

It is a sight the eye to fill

With long-unused, delicious tears;

It is a sight to look upon

With sighs for life's long, erring road;

To send us to a Father's throne,

And lift our stubborn hearts to God!

60

THE PRAYER OF CHILDHOOD.

Oh! who can mark those faces mild,
Those upturned eyes of earnest love,
Nor long to be again a child,

Raising a sinless prayer above?
I gaze, till every hallowed feeling
Of bygone years returns to me ;--
Once more I am an infant-kneeling
Beside my gentle mother's knee.

Once more she bends-that gentle mother-
The guileless lips' devotions o'er;
Once more, thy little arm, my brother,
Entwines my neck, as heretofore;
Once more, as when our prayers ascended
At morn and eve, a mingled strain,
Two young pure hearts together blended-

Ah, ne'er to be so pure again.

The world's cold clouds have dimmed that morrow,

Yet, gazing on this lovely scene,

Who would not turn from present sorrow,
To muse on peace that once had been?

They pray, untouched by care or ill,

With brows as calm as summer even;
'Their eyes' clear depths retaining still
Some radiance from their native heaven.

They pray-upon those parted lips

Truth's simple spirit sits alone;

The world hath cast no dim eclipse

Betwixt them and their Maker's throne:

TO A CHILD.

They pray, and then the kind "Good-night,"

The loving kiss, shall end the prayer ; And theirs will be a slumber light,

With God's own blessing resting there.

ANON.

TO A CHILD.

CHILD! O new-born denizen
Of life's great city! on thy head
The glory of the morn is shed
Like a celestial benison !

Here at the portal thou dost stand,

And with thy little hand

Thou openest the mysterious gate

Into the future's undiscovered land.

I see its valves expand,

As at the touch of Fate!

Into those realms of love and hate,

Into that darkness blank and drear,
By some prophetic feeling taught,
I launch the bold, adventurous thought,
Freighted with hope and fear;

As upon subterranean streams,

In caverns unexplored and dark,

Men sometimes launch a fragile bark,

Laden with flickering fire,

And watch its swift-receding beams

Until at length they disappear,

And in the distant dark expire.

61

62

THE CHILD ASLEEP.

By what astrology of fear or hope
Dare I to cast thy horoscope!

Like the new moon thy life appears ;

A little strip of silver light,

And widening outward into night
The shadowy disk of future years!
And yet upon its outer rim,

A luminous circle, faint and dim,

And scarcely visible to us here,

Rounds and completes the perfect sphere;

A prophecy and intimation,

A pale and feeble adumbration,

Of the great world of light, that lies

Behind all human destinies.

1.ONGFELLOW.

THE CHILD ASLEEP.

WEET babe! true portrait of thy father's face,

Sleep on the bosom that thy lips have pressed!

Sleep, little one; and closely, gently place
Thy drowsy eyelid on thy mother's breast.

Upon that tender eye, my little friend,

Soft sleep shall come, that cometh not to me!

I watch to see thee, nourish thee, defend;

'Tis sweet to watch for thee-alone for thee!

His arms fall down; sleep sits upon his brow;

His eye is closed; he sleeps, nor dreams of harm;