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LAMENT OF A CHILD. 379
And nourish for its native bower Within a holier sphere !
0 mother ! what a priceless gem
Unto thy care is given ! . 'Tis thine—'tis,thine its light to dim,
Or, polish it for heaven ! .
' LAMENT OF A CHILD,
ON BEING REFUSED PERMISSION TO SEE A COLLECTION OF DRAWINGS CARRIED BY A BLIND MAN.
Go, poor man—go ! I may not gaze Upon these wonders for the eye,—
Vainly for me do limners trace Earth's beauty and sublimity.
Go ; go ! to those more favour'd go, Carry the prize I may not see !
The envied sight on them bestow, Since the rich treat is not for me.
'T would be a double source of bliss, A pleasure that I fain would share;
Augment the blind man's happiness, And feast my sight with riches rare.
Yet go! This pleasure is denied, And I must calmly acquiesce ;
But still—I turn away to hide
Feelings which tears but half express.