THE ONLY CHILD
All day, with forethought mild and grave,
The little angel 's quick to save.
And still outruns with tender haste
The adventurous feet that go too fast.
The little angel 's quick to save.
And still outruns with tender haste
The adventurous feet that go too fast.
From draughts, from fire, from cold and stings,
Wraps him within his gauzy wings;
And knows his father's pride, and shares
His happy mother's tears and prayers.
Wraps him within his gauzy wings;
And knows his father's pride, and shares
His happy mother's tears and prayers.
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