45
Mother! teach
Their speech
Unto me.
Of love they sing when they build their nest,
Of love when they soar o'er the mountain's breast.
Or nurture their young in their green retreat,
This makes their music to us so sweet.
And who can say but their warblings rise
To our Father's ear in yon beautiful skies?
Yet nobler, boy, than their highest lays,
Is the language of man, and the voice of praise.
Mother's eye,
Like the sky,
Shines bright;
Such beams
To my dreams
Give light.
There's a smile on the earth and the waters mild,
For the heart of a good and a happy child,
And the sighing leaves on the wind-rock'd limb
