Sonnet. To a Beautiful Little Boy
TO A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE BOY.
O! beauteous infant! in whose cherub face
The sweetest looks, and softest smiles appear;
In whose lov'd countenance, I think I trace
The embryo bloom, of many a future year:
Those vivid eyes that sparkle bright and blue,
The dawn of young intelligence denote;
And that sweet smile, and cheeks of rosy hue,
The bosom free from all corrosive thought.
The breast, that beats with pure affection warm,
Surveys the ills that croud our little stage;
The wild ambition of Life's morning storm,
And the keen pang that waits remotest age.
But still for thee shall Life display a charm,
Her flowers for youth and honours for the sage.
O! beauteous infant! in whose cherub face
The sweetest looks, and softest smiles appear;
In whose lov'd countenance, I think I trace
The embryo bloom, of many a future year:
Those vivid eyes that sparkle bright and blue,
The dawn of young intelligence denote;
And that sweet smile, and cheeks of rosy hue,
The bosom free from all corrosive thought.
The breast, that beats with pure affection warm,
Surveys the ills that croud our little stage;
The wild ambition of Life's morning storm,
And the keen pang that waits remotest age.
But still for thee shall Life display a charm,
Her flowers for youth and honours for the sage.
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