THOU wak'st, my baby boy, from sleep, And through its silken fringe Thine eye, like violet, pure and deep, Gleams forth with azure tinge. With what a smile of gladness, meek, Thy radiant brow is drest, While fondly to a mother's cheek Thy lip and hand are prest. That little hand! what prescient wit Its history may discern, When time its tiny bones hath knit With manhood's sinews stern? The artist's pencil shall it guide? Or spread the adventurous sail? Or guide the plough with rustic pride, And ply the sounding flail? Through music's labyrinthine maze, With dexterous ardor rove, And weave those tender, tuneful lays That beauty wins from love? Old Coke's or Blackstone's mighty tome, With patient toil turn o'er? Or trim the lamp in classic dome, Till midnight's watch be o'er? Well skilled, the pulse of sickness press? Or such high honor gain As, o'er the pulpit, raised, to bless A pious listening train? Say, shall it find the cherished grasp Of friendship's fervor cold? Or, shuddering, feel the envenomed clasp Of treachery's serpent-fold? Yet, oh! may that Almighty Friend, From whom existence came, That dear and powerless hand defend From deeds of guilt and shame. Grant it to dry the tear of woe, Bold folly's course restrain. The alms of sympathy bestow, The righteous cause maintain -- Write wisdom on the wing of time, Even 'mid the morn of youth, And with benevolence sublime, Dispense the light of truth -- Discharge a just, an useful part Through life's uncertain maze, Till coupled with an angel's heart, It strike the lyre of praise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THAT NATURE IS A HERACLITEAN FIRE & OF THE COMFORT OF THE RESURRECTION by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. MR. GEORGE WHITEFIELD, 1770 by PHILLIS WHEATLEY WALT WHITMAN'S CAUTION by WALT WHITMAN PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 48. AL-WADOOD by EDWIN ARNOLD THE STATION MAN, ON LOOK-OUT by ARCHIE BINNS THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 4 by THOMAS CAMPION |