For our child's dear sake some feeble words were used,
But they failed to carry what was inward mused.
Oh! how our heart longed for the poet's flight
To sing relief to deep affection's blight.
When touched emotions ripe like a swelling flood
And merge the soul, oh! it is then we would
That some kind angel could but lend his harp
To start the flowing of a surcharged heart.
But mundane language gave no wings to thought;
Our feelings could in tears alone flow out.