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Poem	Hast thou the infant seen that yet, unknowing of the love Which warms and cradles, calmly sleeps the mother's heart above-- Wandering from arm to arm, until the call of passion wakes, And glimmering on the conscious eye--the world in glory breaks? And hast thou seen the mother there her anxious vigil keep? Buying with love that never sleeps the darling's happy sleep? With her own life she fans and feeds that weak life's trembling rays, And with the sweetness of the care, the care itself repays. And dost thou Nature then blaspheme--that both the child and mother Each unto each unites, the while the one doth need the other?-- All self-sufficing wilt thou from that lovely circle stand-- That creature still to creature links in faith's familiar band? Ah! dar'st thou, poor one, from the rest thy lonely self estrange? Eternal power itself is but all powers in interchange!
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