XLII.
Now soften'd as their spirits were by love,
Abhorrent from such thoughts they turn'd away;
And with a happier feeling, from the dove,
They named the child Yeruti. On a day
When smiling at his mother's breast in play,
They in his tones of murmuring pleasure heard
A sweet resemblance of the stock-dove's lay,
Fondly they named him from that gentle bird,
And soon such happy use endear'd the fitting word.
XLIII.
Days pass, and moons have wex'd and waned, and still
This dovelet nestled in their leafy bower
Obtains increase of sense, and strength and will,
As in due order many a latent power
Expands,—humanity's exalted dower:
And they while thus the days serenely fled
Beheld him flourish like a vigorous flower
Which lifting from a genial soil its head
By seasonable suns and kindly showers is fed.
