Look Into the Past.
LOOK into the past—there are pictures
Detaining the sunshine of May,
All aquiver with light they turn to the sight,
Like a flower that faces the day.
How restful the hillsides and shady!
The brook like a song passeth by,
And the trespassing moon floats about through noon,
Like a bubble blown up in the sky.
Look into the past! It is happy;
Its voices are voices of youth;
There is no idle jest to disturb the heart’s rest,
And its banners wear mottoes of truth;
Look back at the glad, happy faces
That walk with our childhood abreast,
And show me to-day, though it be miles away,
A spot that can offer such rest.
Say not that the years long escaping,
Show graves of a cankering joy.
Because we have found that new pleasures abound,
Must we cast off our first childish toy?
Because some old love has disturbed us,
And filled a lost hour full of gloom,
Are we never to go, when the sun lieth low,
And stand by the neglected tomb?
A Little Face.
TO “C.”
A little face to look at,
A little face to kiss;
Is there anything, I wonder,
That’s half so sweet as this?
A little cheek to dimple
When smiles begin to grow
A little mouth betraying
Which way the kisses go.
A slender little ringlet,
A rosy little ear;
A little chin to quiver
When falls the little tear.
A little face to look at,
A little face to kiss;
Is there anything, I wonder,
That’s half so sweet as this?
A little hand so fragile
All through the night to hold
Two little feet so tender
To tuck in from the cold.
Two eyes to watch the sunbeam
That with the shadow plays—
A darling little baby
To kiss and love always.
