On Witnessing a Baptism

She stood up in the meekness of a heart Resting on God, and held her fair young child Upon her bosom, with its gentle eyes Folded in sleep, as if its soul had gone To whisper the baptismal vow in heaven. The prayer went up devoutly, and the lips Of the good man glowed fervently with faith That it would be, even as he had pray'd, And the sweet child be gaher'd to the fold Of Jesus. As the holy words went on Her lips mov'd silently, and tears, fast tears, Stole from beneath her lashes, and upon The forehead of the beautiful child lay soft With the baptismal water. Then I though That, to the eye of God, that mother's tears Would be a deeper covenant, which sin And the temptations of the world, and death, Would leave unbroken, and that she would know In the clear light of heaven, how very strong The prayer which press'd them from her heart had been In leading its young spirit up to God.