Page:Poems Denver.djvu/53

And waking from my reverie, beheld
Too late, indeed, the cause that called it forth.
A gurgling stream ran through the grassy lawn,
And hither in its sportive playfulness,
The lamb had wandered from its mistress' side,
Skipping and frisking in its fearless mood,
Unconscious of the fate that hovered near!
For while it stood upon the soft dark bank,
The yielding earth gave way, and down it fell,
Wavering an instant on the treacherous edge,
As loth to leave the pleasant world behind.

"Lammy, poor little lammy!" on the bank
She stood with arms outstretched, as if to snatch
Her gentle favorite from its watery grave,
That gave it back no more! and with a sob
Of heartfelt sympathy for that lone child,
I closed my eyes, that filled with bitter grief,
For I, alas! was powerless to save.

"My daughter!" said a deep and manly voice,
In tones of sad affection,—and an arm
Was thrown caressingly around her form;
And as the noble one before me, pressed
The weeping mourner to his manly heart,
His proud lip quivered, and his eyes grew dim,
For she was motherless!
        What love is like
The love we feel for children! O, what love
Is like a father's for his worshiped child;