Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/184



, dearest, long and sweet, With smile upon thy brow, Thy restless, tottering feet Are surely weary now, Trotting about all day Upon the nursery-floor, Or happier still to play Among the wild-flowers gay Beside thy father's door.

Thy little laughing eyes, How tranquilly they rest, Thy tiny fingers clasp'd   Upon thy guiltless breast, While o'er thy placid face The stealing moonbeams fall, And with a heaven-taught grace Thy baby features trace Upon the shaded wall.

Sleep, dearest! She whose ear Her nursing-infant's sigh Hath never waked to hear When midnight's hush was nigh,