Page 294 - The model orator, or, Young folks' speaker : containing the choicest recitations and readings from the best authors for schools, public entertainments, social gatherings, Sunday schools, etc. : including recitals in prose and verse ...
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BORN  DUMB.
                             M      Y   little  level   M y  little  speechless  child!
                                      Gin  I  forget  my  woman’s  heart,  and  be
                                    Forever  mute  to  grief,  forever  mild ?
                                      Is  it  not  hard  to bear  the  foiling.;- rod
                                   When  such an  ailment for  these  baby  lips
                                      Divinely  suits  the policy  of God ?

                                   The  lambs  that play  too  long  at  hide-and-seek
                                      Have tongues that ask  for  mothers  ;  these,  I  know,
                                   Learn  lovely  meanings  when  the  children  speak,
                                      The  mother  comes from  far  across  the  Held
                                   And  calls assurance to  her  anxious  child,
                                      A s  I  had  answered  had  my  lamb  appealed.

                                   So  with  unfcathered blackcaps ;  so  with  things
                                      Whose tones  arc pitched  too low  for  mortal  ears ;
                                   They plead,  and  nature  sends them  breast  and
                                      13ut  I  shall  never  hear  that storied speech,
                                   That  lovely  language  whose  expression  is
                                      Defiance of all  rules  that man  may  teach

                                   I  have brought  silence to  my  husband’s  kr.ee !
                                     And  lie  (O  baby,  baby,  try to  speak!)
                                   So  great’y  counted  on  thy  mimicry
                                      O f words  his  wit  prepared  to  plague thy  lips,
                                   Ready to  kiss  tfini,  rosebud  impotence,
                                     Thy mouth,  and  game;1  all  thy  precious  slip;;,

                                  ?l Mother,"  he used  to  say,  “ when 1  am  worn
                                     In  days to  come  with  writing,  you  slinll  bring
                                   This  bud  of April  on  your  shoulder borne,
                                     And  be  shall  chatter  to  my  chain,  or  tear
                                   M y  latest  lyric,  or  shall  cry to  touch
                                     The  raining  splendors  of your  l avished  hair,
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