For a chime of laughter from baby throats
Took up those crashing organ notes,
Mixed with; silenced them; made them void—
And the children's laughter was unalloyed,
"This be thy doom," came a little squeak,
"To play with us here at 'hide-and-seek'!"
Thrice did the Judge essay to frown;
Thrice did the children laugh Him down—
Till at the last, He caught and kissed
The maddest of all and the merriest;
Turned to the sinner, with smiling face:
"These render futile the Judgment Place.
"Sunniest rascals, imp and elf,
Who think they can better the Judge Himself.
"Sinner—whatever thy sins may be,
Theirs is the sentence—go from Me!"