Page:The Literary Souvenir for 1825.pdf/86



art thou, Boy?—Heaven, heaven! the babe is playing
 * Even on the margin of the dizzy steep!

Haste—hush! a breath, my agony betraying,
 * And he is gone!—beneath him rolls the deep!

Could I but keep the bursting cry suppress'd, And win him back in silence to my breast!

Thou'rt safe!—Thou com'st, with smiles my fond arms meeting,
 * Blest, fearless child!—I, I have tasted death!

Nearer! that I may feel thy warm heart beating!
 * And see thy bright hair floating in my breath!

Nearer! to still my bosom's yearning pain,— I clasp thee now, mine own! thou'rt here again!