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Though strong, is, in the main, a joyless tie

Of naked instinct, wound about the heart.

Happier, far happier is thy lot and ours!

Even now — to solemnize thy helpless state,

And to enliven in the mind's regard

Thy passive beauty — parallels have risen,

Resemblances, or contrasts, that connect,

Within the region of a Father's thoughts,

Thee and thy Mate and Sister of the sky.

And first; — thy sinless p ogress, through a world

By sorrow darkened and by care disturbed,

Apt likeness bears to hers through gathered clouds

Moving untouched in silver purity,

And cheering oft-times their reluctant gloom.

Fair are ye both, and both are free from stain:

But thou, how leisurely thou fill'st thy horn

With brightness ! — leaving her to post along,

And range about — disquieted in change,

And still impatient of the shape she wears.

Once up, once down the hill, one journey, Babe,

That will suffice thee; and it seems that now

Thou hast fore-knowledge that such task is thine;

Thou travell'st so contentedly, and sleep'st

In such a heedless peace. Alas! full soon

Hath this conception, grateful to behold,
Changed countenance, like an object sullied o'er
By breathing mist; and thine appears to be
A mournful labour, while to her is given
Hope —and a renovation without end.
— That smile forbids the thought; — for on thy face
Smiles are beginning, like the beams of dawn,
To shoot and circulate ;— smiles have there been seen,—

Tranquil assurances that Heaven supports
The feeble motions of thy life, and cheers
Thy loneliness ; — or shall those smiles be called
Feelers of love, — put forth as if to explore
This untried world, and to prepare thy way
Through a strait passage intricate and dim?
Such are they, — and the same are tokens, signs,
Which, when the appointed season hath arrived,
Joy, as her holiest language, shall adopt;
And Reason's godlike Power be proud to own.

POEMS

OF THE IMAGINATION.

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