Nestlings / A Collection of Poems

FROM PICTURES OF CHILDREN IN THE AUTHOR'S IMMEDIATE CIRCLE OF FRIENDS SAN FRANCISCO CALIFORNIAN PUBLISHING CO. 1892 Copyright, 1892, by Ella Fraser Weller

These selections have come of occasions. They were not meant for the public eye. The thought of a possible book had given them greater unity, and the vision of a possible critic had probably modified their form. The mother-love for children called for them and they came; there is a conspiracy of mother-loves and the fugitive poems became a book.
The accompanying illustrations are shadows of real faces and may be readily duplicated in any limited circle.
Nestlings may serve as an album for some innocent faces, and perpetuate some possibly helpful sentiment.
S. H. WELLER
Los Angeles, California
As I came o'er the distant hills I heard a nestling sing: 'Oh, pleasant are the primrose buds In the perfumed breath of spring! And pleasant are the mossy banks Beneath the birchen bowers— But a home wherein no children play Is a garden shorn of flowers.'

Within my palm, like roseleaves, dainty, sweet, I fold with tenderest love two little feet— Two little feet, twin flow'rets come to bring To mother's heart the first sweet breath of spring. Wearied with play, at last they lie at rest, One satin sole against its fair mate pressed. Dear little feet, fain would this hand 'ere shield Thy tender flesh from thorns which lie concealed Along the path which, stretching through the years, Leads on to God, through joy and silent tears, Oh, would that I could pluck from thy dear way Whate'er might tempt these little feet to stray, What though my hands be torn by thorn and stone, Thy joy, for all my pain would soon atone; If but thy mother planned thy life for thee, No other path so bright as thine should be. But what am I, that I my love should count Greater than that of Him, who is love's fount— Who sent from heaven, these dainty baby feet To make thy mother's life and love complete? What truer hand than His could mark thy path? What greater love than God, thy Father, hath? What greater wisdom shields thee from all strife? What greater mercy grants eternal life? When shadows come, and clouds obscure thy way He knows that darkness only heralds day. If bruised thy flesh, though mother's heart may bleed, He, in His mercy, knows thy greatest need. Then, little feet, though mother's prayers may rise, In love and trust, that never doubt implies That God, thy steps may lead in ways aright, And keep thy soul from sin's unholy blight, I'll leave thy future in His hands alone, And know, at last, He'll bring thee safely home.