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THE CHILD READING THE BIBLE.
While his young heart first burn'd and stirr'd,
And quiver'd to the eternal word.
And reverently my spirit caught
The reverence of his gaze;
A sight with dew of blessing fraught
To hallow after-days;
To make the proud heart meekly wise,
By the sweet faith in those calm eyes.
It seem'd as if a temple rose
Before me brightly there,
And in the depths of its repose
My soul o'erflowed with prayer,
Feeling a solemn presence nigh—
The power of infant sanctity!
O Father! mould my heart once more,
By thy prevailing breath!
