How clear the blue heaven, whose bright borrow’d gleams
Are reflected far, far o’er the sun-lighted streams!
How gentle the music of low melody
That is whisper’d from blossom, and flower, and tree!
The earth, like an Eden, is glowing with joy,
No serpent hath enter’d its peace to destroy,
A heaven-mission’d Angel—still watches the whole,
’Tis the spirit of God, in that baby’s pure soul.
Well, well may that mother look anxiously there
On that fair, snowy brow, all unshadow’d by care;