Page:Poems Hornblower.djvu/59

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47

And in the beauty that the wreck survives,
We feel the love that shields our fragile lives.
Then let not superstition turn away
The votary of nature from her sway,
With gloomy doubts, and dark, erroneous fears,
Obscure the heavenly impress that she wears,
Or think that revelation can inspire
One holy feeling, or one high desire,
But nature breathes into the soul a bliss,
That may confirm and deepen even this.




LINES.
A child is born—now ring the bells,
The hen is in his father's arms,
The mother's heart with rapture swells,
And hush'd are all love's fond alarms.
How sweet the sound these bells convey,
How bright the morning seems to break,
Mother, rejoice!they seem to say,
Rejoice, for thy dear infant's sake!