The child looked up, with eyes of blue,
As if the whole he guessed;
His arms around the dog he threw,
And sunk again to rest.
Once more he woke, and wrapped him fast
In the warm covering sent;
The dogs then with their charge, at last,
Up the steep mountain went.
III.
The fire glowed bright with heaped-up logs,
Each monk brought forth a light;
“Good dogs!” they cried, “good dogs, good dogs!
Whom bring you here to-night?”
In, with a joyous bound, they come—
The boy awoke and smiled:
“Ah me!” the stranger cried, “some home
Mourneth for thee, fair child!”
With morning light, the monks and boy
Sought where the village lay—
I dare not try to paint the joy
Their coming gave that day.
“If sweet,” the brethren said, “to see
Such gladness shed around,
What wondrous joy in Heaven must be,
When a lost child is found!”
