There! little girl, don't cry!
They have broken your heart, I know;
And the rainbow gleams
Of your youthful dreams
Are things of the long ago;
But Heaven holds all for which you sigh.—
There! little girl, don't cry!
James Whitcomb Riley [1849-1916]
THE MAN
THE BREAKING
The Lord God Speaks To A Youth
Bend now thy body to the common weight:
(But oh, that vine-clad head, those limbs of morn!
Those proud young shoulders, I myself made straight!
How shall ye wear the yoke that must be worn?)
Look thou, my son, what wisdom comes to thee:
(But oh, that singing mouth, those radiant eyes!
Those dancing feet—that I myself made free!
How shall I sadden them to make them wise?)
Nay, then, thou shalt! Resist not—have a care!
(Yea, I must work my plans who sovereign sit;
Yet do not tremble so! I cannot bear—
Though I am God—to see thee so submit!)