  A Mother’s breast: Safe refuge from her childish fears, From childish troubles, childish tears, Mists that enshroud her dawning years! See how in sleep she seems to sing A voiceless psalm—an offering Raised, to the glory of her King, In Love: for Love is Rest. A Darling’s kiss: Dearest of all the signs that fleet From lips that lovingly repeat Again, again, their message sweet! Full to the brim with girlish glee, A child, a very child is she, Whose dream of Heaven is still to be A: Home: for Home is Bliss. |
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