AFFECTION.

BY THE HON. MRS. NORTON.

SMILE on, young Mother! brightly smile,
And thank the Lord of Heaven,
That to those dark and anxious eyes
The future s not given.

Smile on, and listen to the sweet

Low voices in thine ear,

And press the trembler to thy heart,
Whose laugh belies her fear.

The day may come, when dead alike

To human joy or pain,

Those crimson lips shall meet thy kiss,

Yet not caress again :

And thou shalt shroud the fairy limbs,

So perfect in thine eye;

And in the cold and quiet grave

Thy little one shall lie.

The day may come when shame shall creep

That merry heart within,

And thou perforce must share the shame,

Who only wept the sin :

G

When scorned- and crushed-and left alone

Without a name or home,

The broken heart shall breathe a prayer
For Death, which will not come.

The day may come -(oh! strange that such
Should be a mother's fate!)
When those so tenderly beloved
Thy heart shall learn to hate:
When, baffled in thy fondest dreams,
That heart with slow decay
Shall wither at its very core,
And eat itself away.

When cold in feeling, cold in speech,
And brooding o'er thy wrongs,
Thou shalt forget the days of old—
Forget thy cradle songs;

And they who nestled at thy breast,

And laughed upon thy knee,
More strange unto thy home and heart
Than strangers' selves shall be.

Oh! therefore, gentle mother! pray,
And God shall hear thy prayer,
And shield thee from that heavy day

Of sorrow and despair.

Pray, while their light feet dance around

With an unwearied joy;

Pray, while their careless hearts are full

But of some favorite toy.