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520 MARION H. RAND. Till reason's almost fading ray Resumes its firm and wonted sway, And though thy burden be not less, Thou wilt not still be comfortless. Hast thou no human friend, To whom in hours like these to turn When thine o'erburden'd soul will earn Its bitterness to end? Oh, still despair not - there is One To whom sad hearts have often gone - Though rich the gifts for which they pray, None ever came unblest away : Then, though all eathly ties be riven, Smile, for thou hast a friend in heaven. INFANCY. WHAT! my merry little one, Have I found thee all alone? Fast asleep, and, as it seems, In the far-off land of dreams? Say what fancies hover round thee, While the chains of sleep have bound thee? Where, upon this sunny morn, Has that gentle spirit gone? One fair arm is lightly thrown Round that loved and loving one, As in peaceful sleep ye lie, Innocence and infancy. But what dreamest thou, my boy? Are there thoughts of grief or joy Swelling in that guileless heart, Sweet emotions to impart? Dreamest thou of future pleasures, New-found pets, or new-found treasures? 521 MARION H. RAND. Ah - no thoughts like these have place On that quiet, serious face. I have heard that angels come, When our baby spirits roam, Round the slumberer's couch, to shower Visions of a glorious power. There are often dreams of Heaven To the infant spirits given. Oh - we cannot, cannot tell What a mighty holy spell Round the pure, young heart is twined, When the chains of slumber bind Merry eyes that never weep - Lips that close not save in sleep - Tones that ring in wild delight - Voices only hushed at night. Then, perhaps, thy soul, my boy, Wandereth in those realms of joy. Oh! couldst thou but speak, and tell All thy gentle steps befell, What a glorious tale would flow From thy lips, in accents low, But, alas - it may not be, With thy slumbers dreams will flee. 'Tis our Heavenly Father's will, Merciful and gracious still, Lest thou scorn thin earthly lot, All on waking is forgot. 'Tis to infant hearts alone Holy things like these are shown. When a few short years are o'er, These bright dreams return no more. But may that sweet influence still All thy heart and temper fill. That All-seeing Eye will be Eve watching over thee; 44*