My heart were stone could it withstand
The sweetness of my baby’s plea,—
That timorous, baby knocking and
“Please let me in,—it’s only me.”
I threw aside the unfinished book,
Regardless of its tempting charms,
And, opening wide the door, I took
My laughing darling in my arms.
Who knows but in Eternity,
I, like a truant child, shall wait
The glories of a life to be,
Beyond the Heavenly Father’s gate?
And will that Heavenly Father heed
The truant’s supplicating cry,
As at the outer door I plead,
“’Tis I, O Father! only I?”
HUGO’S “CHILD AT PLAY”
A CHILD was singing at his play—
I heard the song, and paused to hear;
His mother moaning, groaning lay,
And, lo! a specter stood anear!
The child shook sunlight from his hair,
And caroled gaily all day long—
Aye, with that specter gloating there,
The innocent made mirth and song!
How like to harvest fruit wert thou,
O sorrow, in that dismal room—
God ladeth not the tender bough
Save with the joy of bud and bloom!
HI-SPY
STRANGE that the city thoroughfare,
Noisy and bustling all the day,
Should with the night renounce its care
And lend itself to children’s play!