Looked through eyes that shone like dew.
Laughed, and wept, “Lost as I am,
Come with me, thou poor lost Lamb!”
Moaned the youngling wood-dove left
By the flock, of flight bereft,
“Thou art lost, and we are lost—
All upon the wide world tossed!
Why not wander on together,
Through the bright or cloudy weather?”
Then the Child that no one knew