Classic Poem

WITH AN AIR THAT SHE WAS TO SING .

T O thee my offspring I commend,
The infant's guide, the parent's friend.
Play with my little helpless birth
Before its hands can leave the earth.

To thee alone its trembling fate,
My hopes and fears, I consecrate;
For it was thy enchanting voice
That made the Nymph I love my choice.

One of Nine Sisters took my heart,
And Love to both resign'd his dart.
The couch was bless'd, — Lucina came,
But wish'd for thee to give the name.

The lisping child no more is weak;
If, tun'd by thee, its note can speak:
The love that was my loan to thee
Pay to this child, and thou art free!