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"Lo! these are they whom thou to me didst trust,
These souls immortal, then enshrin'd in dust;
I took them trembling, at thy high decree,
Receive, instruct, and render back to me."
Thoughtful I strove with mild affection's sway,
To blend with reason's dawn, religious ray;
To smooth the path of duty, lure the course
Of those fair streams up to their parent source;
By night, my waking thoughts on these were bent,
By day, to thee, the fervent prayer was sent,
That the bright star of heaven might light their eyes,
And e'vn in youth their wayward hearts be wise;
But vain had been the anxious, watchful care,
In vain the ceaseless, fond maternal prayer,
Had not a viewless power with love divine,
Matur'd the work, and crown'd the great design.
ON A SLEEPING INFANT.
O CHILD of innocence and bliss,
And gentle mirth, and joy benign,
