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14

She is a widow, and that only child
Survives a beauteous band who early died,
Like vernal blossoms; to the world's drear wild,
Breathing but parting sweetness. Sorely tried
By earthly woes, but never yet denied
That consolation of the heavenly mind,
By patience, and triumphant hope supplied;
In her lov'd first-born son she joys to find
The husband's, children's love exaltedly combin'd.

15.

Attentively behold her pallid face,

Whence every glowing tint of youth hath fled,
But age and care would vainly them efface.
The eloquence of soul still brightly spread
O'er every feature; though all quench'd and dead
The trembling light of her expressive eyes;
Religion round her hath divinely shed,
Amid the clouds of grief, its rainbow dyes,
Telling of promised peace, and love which never

flies.

TWO YOUNG MOTHERS.

"Happy is the man that hath made her his wife; Happy the child that calleth her mother."

The Economy of Human Life.

TWO YOUNG MOTHERS.

I was inattentive at church this afternoon: during the singing after the evening collect, I observed, in the next pew to me, two young women, each pressing to her breast a new-born baby. I am very fond of young babies, and could not help peeping into the next pew very frequently. I do love to watch the little quiet features, where the soul just faintly dawns; the eyes, whose bright pupils are surrounded by so blue a white; the eye-brows, hardly shadowed in their soft arches; the tiny arm, so round and soft; the little clutching hands; and the feet, struggling and kicking with unconscious pleasure through the long folded shirts. Even the cap, trimmed with its crimped profusion of lace, the chin-stay (I have just asked the name) of soft cotton rolled loosely

K

up; and the warm wrapper of fine flannel, bound with white galloon, have charms for me. Young babies certainly are very engaging their very helplessness makes them so. How often have I tried to waken their smiles, and to make them leap and crow with pleasure: but this is wearying to all but young mothers and old nurses; and yet I am neither the one nor the other. Do I not hear some one say, with a look of superiority," a little like the latter ?"

The service for churching women began; I soon perceived that the two women next me had attended to be churched; and again I peeped over every now and then, into the next pew— one of them gave up her child to a friend who was with her, and knelt down; the other gazed for an instant at her baby, in that instant her love beamed over her face; pressed it closer to her bosom, and knelt down with it in her arms. I read the artless feeling of the poor woman, and felt how "the Lord preserveth the simple." I seemed to understand all the mother's feelings, during the short, but beautiful service: and what must not a mother feel, when she, thus, " in the Lord's House, pays her vows in the midst of his people," after "the pangs of death have compassed her round, and the pains of hell got

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