Shield my Lily, Holy Father! Shield her from the whirlwind's might, But protracted sunshine temper With a soft and starry night; 'Neath the burning suns of Summer, Withered, scorched, the spring-flower lies, Human hearts contract, when strangers Long to clouds and tearful eyes. Give her purpose strong and holy, Faith and self-devotion high; These Life's common by-ways brighten Every hope intensify. Teach her all the brave endurance That the sons of earth require; May she, with a patient labor, To the great and good aspire. Should some mighty grief oppress her, Heavier than she can bear, Oh! sustain her by Thy presence, Hear and answer Thou her prayer: And whene'er the storms of winter Round my precious Lily reign, To a fairer clime transplant her, There to live and bloom again. LINES TO D. G. T., OF SHERWOOD. Blessings on thee, noble boy! With thy sunny eyes of blue, Speaking in their cloudless depths Of a spirit pure and true. In thy thoughtful look and calm, In thy forehead broad and high, We have seemed to meet again One whose home is in the sky. Thou to Earth art still a stranger, To Life's tumult and unrest; Angel visitants alone Stir the fountains in thy breast. Thou hast yet no Past to shadow With a fear the Future's light, And the Present spreads before thee Boundless as the Infinite. But each passing hour must waken Energies that slumber now, Manhood with its fire and action Stamp that fair, unfurrowed brow. Into Life's sublime arena, Opening through the world's broad mart, Bear thy Mother's gentle spirit, And her kind and loving heart. With exalted hope and purpose, To the great and good aspire; Downward, in unsullied glory, Hand the honor of thy sire,-- With that love for Truth and Justice, Future annals shall declare Highest proof of moral greatness;-- Nobly live and bravely dare. Cloudless pass thine infant days, Childhood bring thee naught but joy, Manhood, thought, and dignity; Blessings on thee, noble boy! LITTLE KATE. Beside me, in the golden light That slants upon the floor, She twines the many-colored silks Her dimpled fingers o'er; Uplifting now and then her eye, Or praise or blame in mine to spy. For her sweet sake I've cast aside The books I've loved so well, And given up my being to Affection's mighty spell; Ambition's visions vanish all, Before the music of her call.