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WHERE is it, mothers learn their love?— In every Church a fountain springs
O'er which th' eternal Dove
Hovers on softest wings.
What sparkles in that lucid flood
Out of a dear friend's side.
A few calm words of faith and prayer,
Earth's charmers never knew.
O happy arms, where cradled lies,
That precious sacrifice,
The darling of his grace!
Blest eyes, that see the smiling gleam
Touches the tender brow!
Or when the holy cross is sign'd,
To serve the Virgin-born.
But happiest ye, who seal'd and blest
To nurse for Jesus' sake:
To whom-as if in hallow'd air
Ye knelt before some awful shrine
His innocent gestures wear
A meaning half divine :
By whom Love's daily touch is seen
In strengthening form and freshening hue,
In the fix'd brow serene,
The deep yet eager view.
Who taught thy pure and even breath
Though in our frail embrace?
gem, and full of Heaven! Not in the twilight stars on high,
Not in moist flowers at even
See we our God so nigh.
Sweet one, make haste and know Him too, Thine own adopting Father love,
That like thine earliest dew
Thy dying sweets may prove.
Он say not, dream not, heavenly notes To childish ears are vain,
That the young mind at random floats, And cannot reach the strain.
Dim or unheard, the words may fall,
May learn the sacred air, and all
Was not our Lord a little child,
And lov'd He not of Heaven to talk
With children in His sight,
To meet them in His daily walk,
And to His arms invite ?
What though around His throne of fire
The everlasting chant
Be wafted from the seraph choir
Yet stoops He, ever pleas'd to mark
Yet is He near us, to survey
These bright and order'd files, Like spring-flowers in their best array, All silence and all smiles,
Save that each little voice in turn
Some glorious truth proclaims,
What sages would have died to learn,
And if some tones be false or low,
What are all prayers beneath
But cries of babes, that cannot know
Half the deep thought they breathe?