Some narrow gorge each flowery limit binds;
Thus we from childish eyes hide elder woe.
The vales are thick with corn, with plenty shine;
Thus should the children smile in sunny glee,
For One hath blessed them with a love divine,
The untried pilgrims of life’s stormy sea.
Though rough winds cannot enter, gentle rain
Refreshes the green vale, till springs arise,
Their source the snow-clad hills; so age should gain,
By gentle teaching childhood’s eager eyes.