TO A FAMILY BIBLE
What household thoughts around thee, as their shrine,
Cling reverently!—of anxious looks beguiled,
My mother's eyes, upon thy page divine,
Each day were bent—her accents gravely mild,
Breathed out thy love: whilst I, a dreamy child,
Wandered on breeze-like fancies oft away,
To some lone tuft of gleaming spring-flowers wild,
Some fresh-discovered nook for woodland play,
Some secret nest: yet would the solemn Word
At times, with kindlings of young wonder heard,
Fall on my wakened spirit, there to be
A seed not lost:—for which, in darker years,
O Book of Heaven! I pour, with grateful tears,
Heart blessings on the holy dead and thee!
Felicia D. Hemans.