Will he, beside me watch thine eyes unclose?
When shall I see him who hath given thee life,—
My youthful husband, noblest of his race?
Methinks I see, blest mother, and blest wife!
Thy little hands thy father’s neck embrace.
How will he revel in thy first caress,
Disputing with thee for thy gentle kiss!
But think not to engross his tenderness,
Clotilda too shall have her share of bliss.
How will he joy to see his image there;