  How sweet is the dawn of an infant— How fondly caressed is the smile; The mother, though tired and weary, Forgets all, when blessed with her child. When the beautiful bud has expanded, And opens its bloom to our view; Oh, then we see with advantage, What Nature intended to do. And now she can play and can prattle— With her doll and her toys loves to dwell; And who upon earth is so happy, As the dear little girl, Abby Bell. |
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