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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=512831" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet XIX. To A Friend, Who Asked How I Felt When The Nurse First Presented My Infant To Me</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=512831" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Charles! my slow heart was only sad, when first<br>I scanned that face of feeble infancy;<br>For dimly on my thoughtful spirit burst<br>All I had been, and all my babe might be!<br>But when I saw it on its Mother's arm,<br>And hanging at her bosom (she the while<br>Bent o'er its features with a tearful smile), <br>Then I was thrilled and melted, and most warm<br>Impressed a Father's kiss: and all beguiled <br>Of dark remembrance, and presageful fear,<br>I seemed to see an Angel's form appear--<br>'Twas even thine, beloved Woman mild!<br>So for the Mother's sake the Child was dear,<br>And dearer was the Mother for the Child.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Samuel+Taylor+Coleridge">Samuel Taylor Coleridge</a></strong></div>

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