Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1868-07-01
goetry.
The Dnmb Child.
she is INV only girl,

She is my only girl,
asked for her as some most precious thing;
For all unfinished was Loves jeweled ring,
Till set with this soft pearl
The shadow time brought forth could not
How pure, how perfect seemed the gift to met
Oil many soft old tune
used to sing unto that deafened ear,
And suffered not the slightest footstep near,
Lest she might wake too SOON
And hushed her brothers laughter while she lay,
All needless carei might have let them play.
Twas long believed
That this one daughter might not speak to me;
Waited and watched-Cod knows how patiently
How willingly deceived,
Vain Love was long The untiring nurse Of Faith,
And tended Hope until it starved to death
Oh if she could but hear
For one short hour till her tongue might teach
To call me mother, in the broken speech
That thrills the mothers earl
Alas those sealed lips may be stirred
To the deep music of that holy word.
Ny heart it sorely tries,
To see her kneel with such reverent air
Beside her brothers at their evening prayer;
or lift those earnest eyes
To watch our lips as though words she knew
Then move her own, she were speaking, too.
I've watched her locking up
To the bright wonder of a sunset sky,
With such depth of meaning in her eye,
That I could almost hope
The struggling soul would burst it, binding cords
And the long pent-up thoughts flow forth in words
The song of bird and bee,
The chorus of the breezes, streams and groves,
All the grand music to which Nature moves,
Are wasted melody
For her; he world of sounds a tunelc4s void;
While even silence hath its charms destroyed.
Her face is very fair;
Her blue eye beautiful; of finest mould
The soft white brow, DER which, in waves OF gold
RippIes her shining hair,
Alas TINS lovely temple closed must be-
For he VINO made 1t keeps the master key.
Wills He the mind within
Should from earth's Babel clamor be kept free,
Fen that His stin small voice and step might be
Heard, at it, inner shrine,
Through that deep hush Of soul, with clearer thrill
Then should grieve: o, murmuring heart, be still
She seems to have 4 sense
OF quiet gladness, in noiseless play;
she hath pleasant smile, a gentle WAY,
Whose vOiceIcss eloquence
Touches all hearts, though had once the fear
That even her father would not care for her.
Thank God it is not sol
And when his playing merTiIy,
She comes and leans her head upon his knee.
o, at such times, know,
By his full eye, and tones subdued and mild,
How his heart vearns over his silent child.
Not of aII-gifts bereft,
Even now. How could say she did not speak
What real language lights her eve and check,
And renders thanks 10 Him who left
Unto her soul yet open avenues
For joy TO enter, and for love to use2
And God in love doth give
To her defect a beauty of its own
And we deeper tenderness have known
Through that for which we grieve.
Yet shall the seal be melted from her ear,
Yea, and my voice shall ill it-but not here
When that new sense Is given
What rapture will its first experience be
That never woke to meaner melody
Than the rich songs of heaven
To hear the fulItoned anthem swelling round.
While angels teach the ecstacies Of sound