TO MY LITTLE BOY.

———

BY MRS. HENRIETTA L. COLEMAN.

———

I watched a rose, one lovely morn,

Parade herself a summer queen,

While by her side a bud, new-born,

Lay locked in leaves of softest green:

As that fresh bud to beauty blew,

That rose lost all its scent and hue:

Alas! I cried, that this should be!—

For I thought, dear boy, of thee and me.

I watched a parent bird that fed

Her fledgling many a vernal day,

Training his dainty wings to spread

And lightly flit from spray to spray:

Away—afar—I marked him soar,

Never to own fond guidance more.

Can care and love thus wasted be?—

Sadly I thought of thee and me.

I watched the moon rise sweetly bright,

With one fair star that lay below,

Each lovelier shone from mutual light,

As hearts united gentler flow:

Though moon and star in heaven divide

Time brings them ever side by side.

Glorying I spoke, thus may it be!—

For I thought, dear boy, of thee and me.