The Young Mother

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 sceneAs dimm'd Affection's smile;For still to Fancy's brightest hoursShe gave a hue of care,And bitter odours tinged the flowersThat wreathed her sunny hair.

But in the youthful mother's soulEach cloud of gloom was brief,Too pure her raptured feelings rollTo take the tint of grief;Firm Faith around her idol boyIts radiant mantle threw,And claim'd for him a higher joyThan Hope or Memory knew.