Not Man, the sullen savage in his den; But Man called forth in fellowship with men; Schooled and trained up to Wisdom from his birth; God's noblest work-His image upon earth! The hour arrives, the moment wished and feared; The child is born, by many a pang endeared. And now the mother's ear has caught his cry; Oh grant the cherub to her asking eye! He comes...she clasps him. To her bosom pressed, He drinks the balm of life, and drops to rest. Her by her smile how soon the Stranger knows; How soon by his the glad discovery shows! As to her lips she lifts the lovely boy, What answering looks of sympathy and joy! He walks, he speaks. In many a broken word His wants, his wishes, and his griefs are heard. And ever, ever to her lap he flies, When rosy Sleep comes on with sweet surprise. But soon a nobler task demands her care. His moving, murmuring lips endeavour to repeat. Flings off the coat so long his pride and pleasure, His tiny spade in his own garden plies, When JESUS spake, well might his language be, Thoughtful by fits, he scans and he reveres He thirsts for knowledge, speaks but to inquire; } |