A Child Screening a Dove from a Hawk

BY STEWARDSON .

A Y , screen thy favourite dove, fair child,
Ay, screen it if you may, —
Yet I misdoubt thy trembling hand
Will scare the hawk away.

That dove will die, that child will weep, —
Is this their destime?
Ever amid the sweets of life
Some evil thing must be.

Ay, moralise, — is it not thus
We've mourn'd our hope and love?
Ah! there are tears for every eye,
A hawk for every dove!
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