XV. FROM FREDERICK.
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How did I feel?' The little wightFill'd me, unfatherly, with fright!So grim it gazed, and, out of the sky,There came, minute, remote, the cry,Piercing, of original pain.I put the wonder back to Jane,And her delight seem'd dash'd, that I,Of strangers still by nature shy,Was not familiar quite so soonWith her small friend of many a moon.But, when the new-made Mother smiled,She seem'd herself a little child,Dwelling at large beyond the lawBy which, till then, I judged and saw;And that fond glow which she felt stirFor it, suffused my heart for her;To whom, from the weak babe, and thenceTo me, an influent innocence,Happy, reparative of life,Came, and she was indeed my wife,As there, lovely with love she lay,Brightly contented all the dayTo hug her sleepy little boy,In the reciprocated joyOf touch, the childish sense of love,Ever inquisitive to proveIts strange possession, and to knowIf the eye's report be really so.
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