Poems (Toke)/To my sleeping children

by Emma Toke

TO MY SLEEPING CHILDREN.

OW calmly ye are sleeping now,
 Sweet innocents, without a care!
No shade of earth on each fair brow,
 No cloud amid the sunshine there.
Still free from every mortal stain,
 Ye slumber like the folded flowers,
And only live in dreams again
 The sinless sports of waking hours.

Oh, loveliest morn of life's brief day,
 'Tis sweet to watch thy dawning light,
And strive to mark the first pale ray
 That breaks upon the mental night;
To guard with fond, unceasing care,
 The opening mind, the guileless heart,
And feel a light is kindled there,
 Not death itself can bid depart.

And yet, as thus I fondly bend
 Above each slumbering cherub's rest,
Deep, anxious thoughts will ofttimes blend,
 Amid the joy that thrills my breast.
Their future lot—the woe, the weal,
 That each in coming years may prove;
All this a mother's heart must feel,
 And ponder o'er with trembling love.

Our firstborn darling! on thy head
 May every blessing earth can know,
And Heaven can give, be richly shed,
 To light and cheer thy path below:
And if the lot of all must shade
 At last the brightness of that brow,
E'en when thy heart's first light is fled,
 Oh! may it still be pure as now.

And thee, my baby boy, for thee
 Arises many an anxious prayer;
Man's sterner portion thine must be,
 And manhood's perils thou must share.
But mayst thou not unworthy prove
 To bear thy father's honoured name;
And oh! may God, in boundless love,
 Keep thee from danger, sin, and shame.

My cherished ones, how calm, how deep
 The slumber seems that binds ye now!
Long may ye thus securely sleep,
 Nor dream of aught but bliss below.
The soft closed eye, the damask cheek,
 The gentle breathing scarce perceived,
All seem of perfect bliss to speak,
 Of hearts no sorrow yet has grieved.

God bless ye both with ceaseless love,
 And keep ye in life's narrow way,
To ever seek those joys above
 Earth cannot give or take away!
Sleep on in peace, and may ye wake
 With joy to greet to-morrow's light!
One parting look I yet must take,
 And now, my gentle ones, Good night!

E.

February 14, 1840.