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Her first two summers passed away in sickness and in pain,
Jut now—we thank His love who spared—she blooms with health again.
And in her high, expansive brow and earnest eyes appears
A look of serious thoughtfulness, almost beyond her years;
A loving, tender heart she hath, affections gushing o'er,
And a mind that gathers knowledge fast, and ever thirsts for more.
Yet merry as a bird is she. Oh! first and dearest child,
God ever keep thy heart as now, all pure and undefiled!

Next comes the child of many hopes, in truth, a noble boy,
For four short years his little life has glided on in joy:
His loving eyes are brightest blue, his face so sweet and fair
That all his pure and kindly heart seems to be mirrored there.
Blithe, frank, and free, he ever laughs at dangers and at fears,
And yet a sight or tale of woe will melt him into tears.
A noble, generous soul is his, but still so mild and sweet,
That in that little heart the lamb and lion seem to meet.
Oh, precious, precious boy! many a peril thine must be;
May God be still thy Guard and Guide, and angels watch o'er thee.