A Mother's Year Book

by Unknown

MARCH SIXTH

A solemn thing it is to me

To look upon a babe that sleeps,

Wearing in its spirit-deeps

The undeveloped mystery

Of our Adam's taint and woe,

Which, when they developed be,

Will not let it slumber so.

Mrs. Browning

MARCH SEVENTH

Some one had left the gate ajar,

Heaven's gate, you know, my dear,

And a baby angel winging by

Peeped out on a scene most drear.

"Oh me!" he murmured in dulcet tones,

"The old Earth needs more light;

I guess I 'll fly a little way

And carry a sunbeam bright."

Selected

MARCH EIGHTH

Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side,

Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm,

Fill up the interspersed vacancies

And momentary pauses of the thought!

My babe so beautiful! It thrills my heart

With tender gladness thus to look at thee.

S. T. Coleridge

MARCH NINTH

When I hustle home at evening,

And the light shines from the door,

An' I see my little baby

Rollin' happy on the floor,

An' see Sister helpin' Mother,

I'm as tickled as can be

An' there aint no King a-livin'

That has got the best o' me.

Judd Mortimer Lewis

MARCH TENTH

O blossom boy! So calm in thy repose!

So sweet a compromise of life and death,

'Tis pity those fair buds shall e'er unclose

For memory to stain their inward leaf,

Tinging thy dreams with unacquainted grief.

Hood