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O child! O new-born denizen
Of life's great city! on thy head
The glory of morn is read more
O child! O new-born denizen
Of life's great city! on thy head
The glory of morn is shed,
Like a celestial benison!
Here at the portal thou dost stand,
And with thy little hand
Thou openest the mysterious gate
Into the future's undiscovered land.
How lovely he appears! his little cheeks
In their pure incarnation, vying with
The rose leaves strewn read more
How lovely he appears! his little cheeks
In their pure incarnation, vying with
The rose leaves strewn beneath them.
And his lips, too,
How beautifully parted! No; you shall not
Kiss him; at least not now; he will wake soon--
His hour of midday rest is nearly over.
Sweet babe, in thy face
Soft desires I can trace,
Secret joys and secret smiles,
read more
Sweet babe, in thy face
Soft desires I can trace,
Secret joys and secret smiles,
Little pretty infant wiles.
He seemed a cherub who had lost his way
And wandered hither, so his stay
With us read more
He seemed a cherub who had lost his way
And wandered hither, so his stay
With us was short, and 'twas most meet,
That he should be no delver in earth's clod,
Nor need to pause and cleanse his feet
To stand before his God:
O blest word--Evermore!
Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps;
Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps;
She, while read more
Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps;
Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps;
She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies,
Smiles on her slumbering child with pensive eyes.
Her beads while she numbered,
The baby still slumbered,
And smile in her face, as she bended read more
Her beads while she numbered,
The baby still slumbered,
And smile in her face, as she bended her knee;
Oh! bless'd be that warning,
My child, thy sleep adorning,
For I know that the angels are whispering with thee.
Oh those little, those little blue shoes!
Those shoes that no little feet use.
Oh, the price read more
Oh those little, those little blue shoes!
Those shoes that no little feet use.
Oh, the price were high
That those shoes would buy,
Those little blue unused shoes!
The morning that my baby came
They found a baby swallow dead,
And saw a something hard read more
The morning that my baby came
They found a baby swallow dead,
And saw a something hard to name
Fly mothlike over baby's bed.
Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of read more
Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of ours?