THY MOTHER'S LOVE. A MOTHER'S Love,-how sweet the name! What is a Mother's Love? A noble, pure, and tender flame, Enkindled from above, To bless a heart of earthly mould; To bring a helpless babe to light, Its weakness in her arms to bear; Feed it from Love's own fountain there, Then while it slumbers watch its breath, As if to guard from instant death; To mark its growth from day to day, Its opening charms admire, 6 Ten thousand voices answer, No!' Ye clasp your babes and kiss; Your bosoms yearn, your eyes o'erflow; Yet, ah! remember this ; The infant, reared alone for earth, May live, may die, Is this a Mother's love? A parent's heart may prove a snare; Her hand may lead, with gentlest care, Nourish its frame, destroy its mind; Thus do the blind mislead the blind, E'en with a Mother's Love. Blessed infant! whom his mother taught And poured upon his dawning thought The day-spring of the word; This was her lesson to her son, Time is eternity begun : Behold that Mother's Love. Blessed Mother! who, in wisdom's path Thus taught her son to flee the wrath, Ah! youth, like him enjoy your prime, Taught by that Mother's Love. That Mother's Love! - how sweet the name! What was that Mother's Love? The noblest, purest, tenderest flame, Within a heart of earthly mould This was that Mother's Love. THY MOTHER'S WATCHFULNESS. Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps, In form and soul; but, ah! more blest than he ! And chase the world's ungenerous scorn away. 'And say, when summoned from the world and thee So speaks affection, ere the infant eye But when the cherub lip hath learned to claim Or cons his murm'ring task beneath her care, LET me exhort you in the days of youth to remember your Creator, from your being as yet uncorrupted by the world. Although both scripture and experience testify that man is fallen, yet it is equally certain that our earliest passions are on the side of virtue, and that the good seed springs before the tares. Malice and envy are yet strangers to your bosom. Covetousness, that root of evil, hath not yet sprung up in your heart; the selfish, the wrathful and the licen |