He dimples with responsive baby-glee,
I think how wonderfully well he knows
Its beauty; till the changing child-face shows
He had not seen the sky, but laughed to see
The sparkle of my rings;—O baby dear,
This world of lovely gems and sunsets, bright
With children’s faces,—is perhaps the near
Though lesser glory, dazzling our poor sight,
Until we cannot see, for very light,
The heaven that shines for us, revealed and clear.