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Normale Version: THE MOTHER AND CHILD.
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See how she sits, like a sweet angel, watching
Her babe, attentive to the slightest start
And ey'ry gentle undulation catching,
Which thrills with rapture her maternal heart ;

Oh ! how she pictures future years with joy,
When proving worthy of her highest pride
He rises from the nobly-purposed boy,
To swell with manliness life's swelling tide.

Ah ! sanguine mother, may no fatal blast
Wreck e v'ry fondly-cherish'd hope thou hast,
But may he be e'en more than thou dost paint ;
Honouring thy life, cheering its decline
With tenderness and love, while thoughts divine
Present th' embryo of a glorious saint.