The children laughed so when they saw his eyes.
Into the world a rosy hand in doubt
He reached;—a pale hand took the rosebud out.
“And that was all,—quite all?” Ho, surely! But
The children cried so when his eyes were shut.
Patientia
Toil on, O troubled brain,
With anxious thoughts and busy scenes opprest,
Ere long release shall reach thee. A brief pain!
Then—rest!