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MY SLEEPING BABE.
0, if these tiny feet of thine Shall tread life's pathway far,
More bitter woes thou'lt surely" find * Thy bosom's peace to mar.
Thy sorrow, 0 my precious one !
How trifling it must be, When e'en thy mother's smile alone
Can make the shadows flee!
I gaze upon these early tears, And think how dark and deep
Will be the surge of after years, That o'er thy soul must sweep.
And trembling at each frowning ill,
That lies along thy way, Here by thy cradle, lone and still,
I kneel me down to pray.
0 thou, who gav'st the treasure fair,
I yield her back to thee, And ask that thou, through doubt and care,
Her blessed Guide mayst be!
Conduct her to that sacred clime
Of innocence and peace, Where all the gloomy storms of time
Forever more shall cease.