Page:Scenes in my Native Land.pdf/284

280 Mother! who with ineffable tenderness, art bending over the babe that heaven hath given thee, knowest thou what shall befall it in this evil world? Parents, who gaze with pride on the budding promise of the fair boy, whom you have nurtured, know ye what may be his lot in the latter days? Redouble your efforts, deepen your trust in the Eternal, that the evening prayer of your son rise not from the prison-house of guilt, when you are motionless in the grave.