Charles! my slow heart was only sad, when first br I scanned that face of feeble infancy; br For dimly on my thoughtful spirit burst br All I had been, and all my babe might be! br But when I saw it on its Mother's arm, br And hanging at her bosom (she the while br Bent o'er its features with a tearful smile), br Then I was thrilled and melted, and most warm br Impressed a Father's kiss: and all beguiled br Of dark remembrance, and presageful fear, br I seemed to see an Angel's form appear-- br 'Twas even thine, beloved Woman mild! br So for the Mother's sake the Child was dear, br And dearer was the Mother for the Child.