A priceless bit of mortal clay;
Divinely fashioned, and so fair;
The angels well may kinship share.
My soul with gratitude is filled,
My heart with mother love is thrilled,
My eyes brim o’er, love undistilled,
While gazing on my cherub girl.
O precious one! Through tears I see
A mighty task awaiting me.
My happy sky grows overcast,
Life’s duties loom so grand, so vast.
To shield from wrong, to right incline,
This little life now linked to mine—
Divine the gift. Oh, may the mould
A heart of truth and honor hold!
Help me, kind Heaven, to know the way
From out the tangle of each day,
To guide her safe to woman’s prime,
And all the glory shall be Thine.
—M.I. Piatt (from Verses of Virtue)