But now life’s face beholden
Seemed bright as heaven’s bare brow
With hope of gifts withholden
But now.
From time’s full-flowering bough
Each bud spake bloom to embolden
Love’s heart, and seal his vow.
Joy’s eyes grew deep with olden
Dreams, born he wist not how;
Thought’s meanest garb was golden;
But now!
A BABY’S DEATH.
I.
A little soul scarce fledged for earth
Takes wing with heaven again for goal
Even while we hailed as fresh from birth
A little soul.
Our thoughts ring sad as bells that toll,
Not knowing beyond this blind world’s girth
What things are writ in heaven’s full scroll.
Our fruitfulness is there but dearth,
And all things held in time’s control
Seem there, perchance, ill dreams, not worth
A little soul.
II.
The little feet that never trod
Earth, never strayed in field or street,
What hand leads upward back to God
The little feet?