MY beauty and my blessing,
A year ago, to-day,
Thy little eyes first opened,
To the morning's blessed ray;
And, as I saw thee lying,
On thy gentle Mother's breast,
I felt, what only Fathers feel,
And cannot be expressed.
My beauty, what strange wonders,
Since that day, have been wrought;
Thy life, how wreathed with sunny smiles,
Thine eye, how full of thought!
How many a queer and quaint device,
How many a guileless art;
Thine infant nature's eloquence,
To win a parent's heart.
My blessing, such I feel thee,
With each returning day,
A fountain heaven-opened,
To refresh life's dusty way;
To cheer, with love, and hope, the path,
Else, ah! how lonely trod,
And lift the heart's affections, up,
In prayers, for thee, to God.
My beauty and my blessing,
For thee, my prayers shall rise,
With morning's dawn, and evening's fall,
Unfailing, to the skies;
That He, who gave thee, to us,
Would guard and guide thy way,
Through life, in peace and purity,
To Heaven's eternal day.