THE BOY GUITARIST.
Blessing and love be round thee still, fair boy!
Never may suffering wake a deeper tone
Than genius now, in its first fearless joy,
Calls forth exulting from the chords which own
Thy fairy touch! Oh! may’st thou ne’er be taught
The power whose fountain is in troubled thought!
For in the light of those confiding eyes,
And on th’ ingenuous calm of that clear brow,
A dower, more precious e’en than genius lies,