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Those dark and beaming eyes confessed
The mind's refulgent power,
And placid joy, thy spirit's guest,
Gilded each passing hour.

Though fled the bright and transient gleam
Of beauty's early grace,
That, playing o'er each feature, beamed
With magic loveliness;—

Though dim the radiance of that glance,—
Its lambent brightness flown;—
Tho' changed the smile where pleasure danced,
Or mild contentment shone,—

Far deeper thoughts and richer themes
Now shade that polished brow;
Maternal love's soft, gentle beams
O'er those fair features glow.

And oft that pallid brow is pressed,
As anxious cares arise,
While, pillowed on thy gentle breast,
Thine infant placid lies;

Or sports in pleasing playfulness,
Pure as the opening skies,—
And bright, with untold happiness,
Its pleasure-beaming eyes.