POETIR H.

NY El g- lZ'D CHILD.
IO EN ELtNEe Come to my arms, my hiHe-ey'd chiid' For thou art as my own to me Nor. father e CT more fondly smil'd

 Upon his child than l on thee! Come to my arms, my blue-ey'd child, Whose innocent endearments cheer A heart, that of all else despoild,

 Would still be blest, so tSou vert near Come to my arms, my blne-ey'd d child /! And bending o'er my shoulder, hlng Thy golden tresses, rolling wild In many soft and sunny ring Come to my arms, my bhe-ey 'dschIld! And let me on thy brow of snow, Pure as thy spirit undefl'd

 The burning kiss of love bestows Come to my arms, my biue-ey'd child /! When thy dear eyes upon me shine, So bright, and yet so sweet and mild, Affections tears will gush in mine Come to my arms, my blue-ey'd child! Ali else forget, contemn or lly, The love have upon thee pll'd- Shouldst ttou neglect me, l must die Come to my arms, my blue-ey'd child, And nestle, like a little dove, Upon heart that might be styl'd A fathers, flor fathers love.