To an Infant Three Weeks Old

Can I bid thee, lovely stranger,
Welcome to a world of care?
Where attends thee many a danger,
Where awaits thee many a snare?

Hence, away, ye dark surmizes,
Hope presents a fairer scene;
Many a blooming pleasure rises,
Many a sunbeam shines serene.

O may providence defend thee?
Circled in its guardian arms,
Dangers may in vain attend thee,
Safe amid surrounding harms.

Shall I wish the world caressing?
With thee pleasure, grandeur, wealth?
No — but many a nobler blessing;
Wisdom, virtue, friendship, health.

May'st thou know the gracious donor,
Early know, and love and praise!
Then shall real wealth and honour,
Peace and pleasure crown thy days.