The Bijou;
or Annual of Literature and the Arts
compiled by William Fraser
London: William Pickering,
1828
| [Page 32] |  |
| CHILD of my heart! My sweet, belov'd first-bórn! | 1 |
| Thou dove, who tidings bring'st of calmer hours! | 2 |
| Thou rainbow, who dost come when all the showers | 3 |
| Are past, — or passing! Rose which hath no thorn, — | 4 |
| No pain, no blemish, — pure and unforlorn, | 5 |
| Untouched — untainted — O, my flower of flowers! | 6 |
| More welcome than to bees are summer bowers, — | 7 |
| To seamen stranded life-assuring morn. | 8 |
| Welcome! a thousand welcomes! Care, who clings | 9 |
| Round all, seems loosening now her snake-like fold! | 10 |
| New hope springs upwards, and the bright world seems | 11 |
| Cast back into her youth of endless springs! — | 12 |
| — Sweet mother, is it so? — or grow I old, | 13 |
| Bewildered in divine Elysian dreams? | 14 |
from The Bijou, 1828, p. 32 |
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