When first thy infant littleness
I folded in my fond caress,
The greatest proof of happiness
Was this-I wept.

Sept., 1839.

LINES

ON SEEING MY WIFE AND TWO CHILDREN SLEEPING IN THE SAME CHAMBER.

AND has the earth lost its so spacious round,

The sky its blue circumference above,
That in this little chamber there is found
Both earth and heaven-my universe of love!
All that my God can give me or remove,
Here sleeping, save myself, in mimic death.
Sweet that in this small compass I behove
To live their living and to breathe their breath!
Almost I wish that with one common sigh

We might resign all mundane care and strife,
And seek together that transcendent sky,

Where Father, Mother, Children, Husband, Wife,
Together pant in everlasting life!

COBLENTZ, Nov., 1835.

LOVE thy mother, little one!
Kiss and clasp her neck again,-
Hereafter she may have a son

Will kiss and clasp her neck in vain.
Love thy mother, little one!

II.

Gaze upon her living eyes,

And mirror back her love for thee,Hereafter thou may'st shudder sighs To meet them when they cannot see. Gaze upon her living eyes!

III.

Press her lips the while they glow With love that they have often told,— Hereafter thou may'st press in wo, And kiss them till thine own are cold.

Press her lips the while they glow!

IV.

Oh, revere her raven hair!
Altho' it be not silver-grey;

Too early Death, led on by Care,

May snatch save one dear lock away.

Oh! revere her raven hair!

V.

Pray for her at eve and morn,

That Heaven may long the stroke defer,For thou may'st live the hour forlorn When thou wilt ask to die with her.

Pray for her at eve and morn!

STANZAS.

FAREWELL Life! my senses swim,
And the world is growing dim:
Thronging shadows cloud the light,
Like the advent of the night—
Colder, colder, colder still,
Upward steals a vapor chill;
Strong the earthy odor grows―
I smell the mould above the rose!

Welcome Life! the Spirit strives!
Strength returns and hope revives;
Cloudy fears and shapes forlorn
Fly like shadows at the morn,
O'er the earth there comes a bloom;
Sunny light for sullen gloom,
Warm perfume for vapor cold-

I smell the rose above the mould!

April, 1845.