"I did not dream of this, when thou wast straying
Like an unbound gazelle, among the flowers,
Or wiling the soft hours,
By the rich gush of water-sources playing,
Then sinking weary to thy smiling sleep,
So beautiful and deep.
"Oh no! and when I watched by thee, the while,
And saw thy bright lip curling in thy dream,
And thought of the dark stream
In my own land of Egypt, the far Nile,
How prayed I that my fathers' land might be
A heritage for thee!
"And now the grave for its cold breast hath won thee,
And thy white delicate limbs the earth will press;
And oh! my last caress
Must feel thee cold, for a chill hand is on thee—
How can I leave my boy, so pillowed there
Upon his clustering hair"
* * * * *
She stood beside the well her God had given
To gush in that deep wilderness, and bathed
The forehead of her child until he laughed
In his reviving happiness, and lisped
His infant thought of gladness at the sight
Of the cool plashing of his mother's hand.
N. P. Willis
* * * * *
THE MODEL WIFE
His house she enters there to be a light,
Shining within when all around is night,
A guardian angel o'er his life presiding,
Doubling his pleasures and his cares dividing:
Winning him back when mingling with the throng
Of this vain world we love, alas, too long,
To fireside's happiness and hours of ease,
Blest with that charm, the certainty to please;
How oft her eyes read his! Her gentle mind
To all his wishes, all his thoughts inclined;
Still subject—ever on the watch to borrow
Mirth of his mirth and sorrow of his sorrow.
Ruskin