When travail hours are spent and o'er,

And genial hours of joy

In cradle songs and nursery lore

All the glad home employ,

Full busy in her kindly mood

Is Fancy, to descry

The welcome notes of fatherhood,

In form, and lip, and eye.

And elder brethren's hearts are proud,

And sisters blush and smile,

As round the babe by turns they crowd

A brief and wondering while.

With eager speed they ready make

Soft bosom and safe arm

As though such burthen once to take

A blessing were and charm.

And ever as with hastening wing

His little life glides on,

By power of that first wondrous spring

To all but babes unknown,

Easier each hour the task will grow,

To name the unfolding flower,

By plumage and by song to know

The nestling in his bower.--

Oh, while your hearts so blithely dance

With frail fond hopes of earth,

Will ye not cast one onward glance

To the true heavenly birth?

Will ye not say, 'GOD speed the time

When Spirits pure, to trace

The lines of a more glorious prime,

Shall lean from their high place,

'And mark, too keen for earthly day,

The Father's stamp and seal,

CHRIST in the heart, the Living Ray,

Its deepening light reveal?'

--Oh, well the denizens of Heaven

Their Masters children know,

By filial yearnings sweet and even,

By patient smiles in woe,

By gaze of meek inquiry, turn'd

Towards th' informing Eye,

By tears that to obey have learn'd,

By claspéd hands on high!