The book and babe and she between,—
Through doors ajar I mark’d the scene.
And, while she sat before me so,
Content to share another’s woe;
A captive for her sisters gone,
Whom all their joy depended on;
Cheer’d now to read of heavenly worth
For souls denying self on earth;
Moved now to do the deed she should,
Lest wrong should lead that child from good;—