To One Of The Author's Children

On His Birthday, 27 August, 1825.



THOU wak'st from happy sleep to play
 With bounding heart, my boy!
Before thee lies a long bright day
 Of summer and of joy.

Thou hast no heavy thought or dream
 To cloud thy fearless eye;?
Long be it thus?life's early stream
 Should still reflect the sky.

Yet ere the cares of life lie dim
 On thy young spirit's wings,
Now in thy morn forget not Him
 From whom each pure thought springs!

So in the onward vale of tears,
 Where'er thy path may be,
When strength hath bowed to evil years?
 He will remember thee.