Or what the transports of the ardent boy
To the fond husband's bliss, which, day by day,
Lights up his spirit with affection's ray?
Man knows not what love is, till all his cares
The partner of his bosom soothes and shares--
Until he find her studious to please--
Watching his wishes!--Oh, 'tis acts like these
That lock her love within his heart, and bind
Their souls in one, and form them of one mind.
Love flowed within their bosoms as a tide,
While the calm rapture of their own fireside
Each day grew holier, dearer; and esteem
Blended its radiance with the glowing beam
Of young affection, till it seemed a sun
Melting their wishes and their thoughts as one.


XII.

Eight years passed o'er them in unclouded joy,
And now by Helen's side a lovely boy,
Looked up and called her, Mother; and upon
The knee of Edmund climbed a little one--
A blue-eyed prattler--as her mother fair.
They were their parents' joy, their hope, their care;
But, while their cup with happiness ran o'er,
And the long future promised joys in store,
Death dropped its bitterness within the cup,
And its late pleasant waters mingled up
With wailing and with woe. Like early flowers,