_For the long nights you lay awake_ _And watched for my unworthy sake:_ _For your most comfortable hand_ _That led me through the uneven land:_ _For all the story-books you read:_ _For all the pains you comforted:_ _For all you pitied, all you bore,_ _In sad and happy days of yore:--_ _My second Mother, my first Wife,_ _The angel of my infant life--_ _From the sick child, now well and old,_ _Take, nurse, the little book you hold!_ _And grant it, Heaven, that all who read_ _May find as dear a nurse at need,_ _And every child who lists my rhyme,_ _In the bright, fireside, nursery clime,_ _May hear it in as kind a voice_ _As made my childish days rejoice!_…
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