WHEN Jessie comes with her soft breast,
And yields the golden keys,
Then is it as if God caress'd
Twin babes upon His knees-
Twin babes that, each to other press'd,
Just feel the Father's arms, wherewith they both are bless'd.
But when I think if we must part,
And all this personal dream be fled-
O then my heart! O then my useless heart!
Would God that thou wert dead-
A clod insensible to joys and ills-
A stone remote in some bleak gully of the hills!
