The child of Love![355] though born in bitterness,

And nurtured in Convulsion! Of thy sire

These were the elements,—and thine no less.

As yet such are around thee,—but thy fire

Shall be more tempered, and thy hope far higher!

Sweet be thy cradled slumbers! O'er the sea

And from the mountains where I now respire,

Fain would I waft such blessing upon thee,

As—with a sigh—I deem thou might'st have been to me![la]