Come, little child, for thou art mine."
I kissed him', raising up my head,
And whispered, "Yea, Lord, I am thine."
We wandered through white clover-flowers
Beside a murmuring brook all day;
When night led back the dream-tide hours
Within his shepherd arms I lay.
Older I grew, until at last
Unto a clanging town we came;
Christ wept for me, but in I passed