Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/185

184 Ne'er felt its balmy kiss The cradle-care repay, Hath she not chanced to miss The deepest, purest bliss That cheers life's pilgrim-way?

To see each budding power Thy Maker's goodness bless, To catch the manna-shower Of thy full tenderness, The immortal mind to train— No more divine employ Thy mother seeks to gain, Until her spirit drain The seraph cup of joy.