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Oh! how I love thee! we will stayTogether here this one half day.My Sister's Child, who bears my name,From France across the Ocean came;She with her Mother cross'd the sea;The Babe and Mother near me dwell:My Darling, she is not to meWhat thou art! though I love her well:Rest, little Stranger, rest thee here;Never was any Child more dear!
—I cannot help it—ill intentI've none, my pretty Innocent!I weep—I know they do thee wrong,These tears—and my poor idle tongue.Oh what a kiss was that! my cheekHow cold it is! but thou art good;Thine eyes are on me—they would speak,I think, to help me if they could.Blessings upon that quiet face,My heart again is in its place!
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