31.12.2010, 18:34
ON A CHILD'S EYES
How loveable all infant beauties are !
How sweet, in form and colour, are thine eyes !
Disks of two living flowers, that, rooted far
Within thy spirit, do report its joys.
And pass its half-hour's sorrows on to heaven,
To sun themselves and vanish ; but, in prayer,
Their best expression comes ; through the deep air
They see their Lord, like those of holy Stephen.
Far off, dear child ! be that unhappy time,
When aught of hard or shrewd shall settle there,
Of wanton boldness, or of blighting crime ;
So Age may haply find them, as they were.
And Death assort them with full many a one,
That shall not blench when Jesus takes His throne !
How loveable all infant beauties are !
How sweet, in form and colour, are thine eyes !
Disks of two living flowers, that, rooted far
Within thy spirit, do report its joys.
And pass its half-hour's sorrows on to heaven,
To sun themselves and vanish ; but, in prayer,
Their best expression comes ; through the deep air
They see their Lord, like those of holy Stephen.
Far off, dear child ! be that unhappy time,
When aught of hard or shrewd shall settle there,
Of wanton boldness, or of blighting crime ;
So Age may haply find them, as they were.
And Death assort them with full many a one,
That shall not blench when Jesus takes His throne !