(BIOGRAPHY AND DATES UNAVAILABLE)
How often by a sinless child
May we of error be beguiled;
How oft a single, simple word
The scaled springs of thought have stirr’d
And waken’d feelings deep, to be
A lesson for futurity!
The gayest, most aerial thing,
That moves on earth without a wing,
Today such lesson taught to me.
How sweetly, yet unconscuiously,
The infant maiden, artless, mild,
Reproved her elder playmate’s pride!
And yet the babe has only smiled
Three years by her fond mother’s side.
They stood before a picture—one
Where dark ‘neath Afric’s burning sun,
A wild and lonely native lay:
The child’s companion turn’d to say,
“There’s an old nigger, Anne, see!,”
And pointed to the African;
The little one said quietly,
“I see he is a colored man.”
Ah, well may sages bow to thee,
Loving and guileness infancy!
And sigh, amid their learned lore,