O CHILD of beauty rare -- O mother chaste and fair -- How happy seem they both, so far beyond compare! She, in her infant blest, And he in conscious rest, Nestling within the soft warm cradle of her breast! What joy that sight might bear To him who sees them there, If, with a pure and guilt-untroubled eye, He look'd upon the twain, like Joseph standing by. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SUMMER NIGHT by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS A SONNET TO YOU! by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE PREPARATION by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN THE FLAMINGO by LEWIS GAYLORD CLARK THE ENTHUSIAST, SONGS OF ARLA: 3 by ANNE BATTEN CRISTALL |