To One Of The Author's Children

On His Birthday, 27 August, 1825.

THOU wak'st from happy sleep to play

 With bounding heart, my boy!

Before thee lies a long bright day

 Of summer and of joy.

Thou hast no heavy thought or dream

 To cloud thy fearless eye;?

Long be it thus?life's early stream

 Should still reflect the sky.

Yet ere the cares of life lie dim

 On thy young spirit's wings,

Now in thy morn forget not Him

 From whom each pure thought springs!

So in the onward vale of tears,

 Where'er thy path may be,

When strength hath bowed to evil years?

 He will remember thee.