Classic Poem

Child of my many thoughts and soul-wrapt nights
And intricate researches unconfined!
Child of my many fancies and delights,
Hopes, fears, and retrospections of the mind!
What happiness must thy fond parent find,
To see thee now a comely modelled child?
And know how many hours thou hast disjoined
From Care and Sorrow, by thy visage mild.
Yes—thou hast devious murmurings beguiled;
Which doubtless would have lingered in the heart;
For when thou on those worldly carkings smiled,
They melted into shadows by thine art.
Should then my eye uncheerful glance thee o'er?
Ah! no,—if once I loved,—I love thee still the more!