--Still ever at her side, by night and day Was Bertha, entering into every plan, With zealous aid, assuming every care That brought a burden, catching every smile On the clear mirror of a loving heart, Which by reflection doubled. Thus they dwelt, Mother and daughter, in sweet fellowship, One soul betwixt them. Filial piety Thrives best with generous natures. Here was nought Of self to cheek it, so it richly bloom'd Like the life-tree, that yieldeth every month New fruits, still hiding mid its wealth of leaves The balm of healing. In that peaceful home The fair-haired orphan was a fount of joy, Spreading her young heart like a tintless sheet For Love to write on. Sporting 'mid the flowers, Caroling with the birds, or gliding light As fawn, her fine, elastic temperament Took happiest coloring from each varying hour Or changing duty. Kind, providing cares Which younglings often thoughtlessly receive Or thankless claim, she gratefully repaid With glad obedience. Pleas'd was she to bear Precocious part in household industry, Round shining bars to involve the shortening thread, And see the stocking grow, or side by side With her loved benefactresses to work Upon some garment for the ill-clad poor, With busy needle. As their almoner, 'Twas her delight to seek some lowly hut And gliding thence, with noiseless footstep, leave With her kind dole, a wonder whence it came. --A heavenly blessing wrapp'd its wing around The adopted orphanage. Oh ye whose homes Are childless, know ye not some little heart Collapsing, for the need of parent's love, That ye might breathe upon? some outcast lamb That ye might shelter in your fold? content To make the sad eye sparkle, guide the feet In duty's path, bring a new soul to Heaven, And take your payment from the Judge's Voice, At the Last Day? --A tireless tide of joy, A world of pleasure in the garden bound, Open'd to Leonore. From the first glance Of the frail Crocus through its snowy sheath, On, to the ripen'd gatherings of the Grape, And thorn-clad chestnut, all was sweet to her. She loved to plant the seed and watch the germ, And nurse the tender leaflet like a babe, And lead the tendril right. To her they seem'd Like living friends. She sedulously mark'd Their health and order, and was skill'd to prune The too luxuriant spray, or gadding vine. She taught the blushing Strawberry where to run, And stoop'd to kiss the timid Violet, Blossoming in the shade, and sometimes dream'd The Lily of the lakelet, calmly throned On its broad leaf, like Moses in his ark, Spake words to her. And so, as years fled by, Young Fancy, train'd by Nature, turn'd to God. Her clear, Teutonic mind, took hold on truth And found in every season, change of joy.