Nature—the Gentlest Mother is
Impatient of no Child
The feeblest—or the waywardest
Her Admonition mild

In Forest—and the Hill
By Traveller—be heard
Restraining Rampant Squirrel
Or too impetuous Bird

How fair Her Conversation
A Summer Afternoon
Her Household—Her Assembly
And when the Sung go down

Her Voice among the Aisles
Incite the timid prayer
Of the minutest Cricket
The most unworthy Flower

When all the Children sleep
She turns as long away
As will suffice to light Her lamps
Then bending from the Sky

With infinite Affection
And infiniter Care
Her Golden finger on Her lip
Wills Silence—Everywhere