78. EBB to Charles John Moulton-Barrett
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 1, 67–68.
To our beloved Storm
On his birthday
December 28th 1818 [1]
Hope End.
If theres a Muse that sweeps the lyre
Sacred to jollity and play
Now be it hers our thoughts to inspire
Be it hers to reign to day
If theres a Muse that can declare
The feelings of the breast
And all affections influence there
And how supremely blest!
Be it hers to tune the joyful lay
Our petty griefs forgot
Be it hers to ride our hearts today
And bless our Stormys lot!
Nor thou Charles John despise my strain
This day four years have shed
Their simple joys deprived of pain
Upon thy darling head
Oh child beloved Papas dear Boy
Whose days thus happy flow
Play’s soft delights thy souls employ
Unknown to grief or woe–
And if by chance some petty sorrow
Should wake the pensive tear
Thou weeps today then smiles tomorrow
And griefs thy joys endear
Four years thy little life has past
With swift and silent tread
Unruffled by afflictions blast
They’ve faded o’er thy head–
Rejoice ye nymphs and tune your song
To celebrate this day
And wind the festive dance along
With gladsome footsteps gay
Let play the livelong hours employ
That Happiness may cheer
With bosoms light & heartfelt joy
The Winter of the year.
Oft may the present circle meet
To hail our darlings birth
And this loved day may happy greet
With kindred joy and mirth.
My sweet Charles Johns
affectionate sister
E B Barrett.
Publication: None traced.
Manuscript: Berg Collection.
1. His fourth birthday.
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