On
a
Child
.
WHAT
quick
sensations
crowd
my
anxious
breast
,
As
o'er
thy
infant
form
my
eyes
are
cast
!
What
pleasing
views
my
flattering
hopes
suggest
!
What
groundless
fears
those
happy
prospects
blast
!
Now
gay
Idea
paints
thy
future
years
,
Thy
mind
unequall'd
,
unexcell'd
thy
charms
;
Pensive
Affection
now
impels
my
tears
,
And
fond
Solicitude
my
soul
alarms
.
O
may
that
God
,
whose
endless
bounty
gave
So
dear
a
boon
my
sorrows
to
assuage
,
In
tender
mercy
my
Louisa
save
,
To
glad
my
youth
,
and
cheer
my
drooping
age
!
And
when
this
bosom
heaves
its
parting
sigh
,
May
thy
lov'd
hand
be
near
to
close
my
darkening
eye
!