To A Sleeping Baby's Eyes

And thou, twin orbs of love and joy! Unveil thy glories with the morn— Dear eyes, another day is born— Awake, O little sleeping boy! Bright are the summer morning skies, But in this quiet little room There broods a chill, oppressive gloom— All for the brightness of thine eyes. Without those radiant orbs of thine How dark this little world would be— This sweet home-world that worships thee— So let their wondrous glories shine On those who love their warmth and joy— Awake, O sleeping little boy.