Kids Poems » Writing in Helen’s Album, On Her Birth Day

Now, Helen dear, I hear thee say,
That thou art six years old to-day !
So I will set my record here
Of thy beginning seventh year,
That thou in after days may'st find
The trace which this has left behind.

This morning we together strayed
'Mid fern, and brake, and forest-shade;
And, with thy little hand in mine,
We passed the rustling oak and pine,
Where last year's acorn-cup and cone
Among its withered leaves were strown.

The nimble squirrel, climbing high,
Looked down on us with curious eye ;
While birds amid the branches sung
Till through the woods their music rung:
And in the boughs the spicy breeze
Made leafy air-harps of the trees.

Round, scarlet berries, ripe and sweet,
Peeped out like gems beside our feet ;
The modest harebell bowed beneath
The sweetbrier tall, her balm to breathe;
And many a little floweret wild
Grew low, but looked to heaven and smiled.

We ventured down the mossy steep,
That edged the waters clear and deep,
Where blooming laurels grew beside
The Merrimack's broad silver tide;
And all was beauteous, fresh, and fair,
In nature's glory shining there.

And may thy future days be bright -
Thy heart be ever pure and light,
As when, a little gladsome child,
I led thee through the flowery wild :
And by thy prattling tongue was told.
That thou to-day wast six years old !

In other days, when thou may'st see
My face no more, remember me-
Remember, that I asked to-day
Heaven's smile upon thy future way-
That 'twas thy parent's early friend,
And thine, who this memento penned.

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