O happy arms, where cradled lies, The darling of his grace! Blest eyes, that see the smiling gleam Touches the tender brow! Or when the holy cross is sign'd, With true and fearless mind To serve the Virgin-born. But happiest ye, who seal'd and blest Back to your arms your treasure take, With Jesus' mark impress'd 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? O tender gem, and full of Heaven! 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. XCVII. CATECHISM. OH 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, And yet the heaven-taught mind May learn the sacred air, and all The harmony unwind. Was not our Lord a little child, Taught by degrees to pray, By father dear and mother mild Instructed day by day? And lov'd He not of Heaven to talk With children in His sight, To meet them in His daily walk, What though around His throne of fire 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, Now taught by cottage dames. 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? In His own words we Christ adore, Higher above our meaning soar Than we o'er children weak: And yet His words mean more than they, And yet He owns their praise: Why should we think, He turns away From infants' simple lays? |