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Again Lucina came. That new-born cry, 



Shuddering, again she heard ; her fearful eye 



Wander' d around awhile, nor dared to stay. 



" There, there he lies ! my child ! " With fresh essay 



Once more she turn'd. But when at length her sight 



Dwelt on its face, her wonder — her delight — 



Can ne'er by tongue be told, by fancy guess'd ! 



Frantic she caught, she kiss'd, and lulFd him on her breast. 



Oh ! who can paint how Irza loved that child ! 

 Grieved when he moan'd, and smiled whene'er he smiled ! 

 His dimpled arm soft on the rushes lay ; 

 Through his fine skin the blood was seen to play ; 

 That skin than down of swans more smooth and white; 

 Nor e'er shone summer sky so blue and bright, 

 As shone the eyes of that same cherub elf; 

 In small the model of her beauteous self. 

 The scant gold locks which gilt his ivory brow, 

 Were sun-beams gleaming on a globe of snow ; 

 And on his coral lips the red which stood, 

 Shamed the first rose, whose milk was Paphia's blood. 

 By fairy-thefts since nurses were beguiled, 

 Never stole fairy yet a lovelier child ! 

 In Nature's costlier charms no babe array'd, 

 At length a mother's fears and throes repaid : 

 Not when Lucina first in myrtle grove, 

 To Beauty's kiss presented new-born Love ; 

 And while, with wond'ring eyes, the immortal boy 

 Imbibed new light, and pour'd ecstatic joy : 

 He kiss'd and drain'd by turns her fragrant breast, 

 Till amorous ring-doves coo'd the god to rest. 



Mothers may love as much, but never more, 

 Nor e'er did mother love so well before, 

 As Irza loved that child ! Her sable lord 

 Mark'd well that love ; and now, to health restored. 

 He felt her child to home would chain her feet, 

 Nor roll'd the stone to close her lone retreat. 



