That I should nurse the stranger, give it air,
Ay, ay, and food, if need be; let it grow.
God’s child alone, I have no fear of it.
VI.
Long after that, our Haydn found no chance
To talk with me; and this, I know not why.
My father—I could never find out why
My father aught surmised: we walk’d alone,
Doretta, Haydn, I—my father though
From this time seem’d less trustful; not that he