Kenton is tropical, Rose is pure white,
Deborah shines like a star in the night;
Michael's round eyes are as blue as the sea,
And nothing on earth could be dearer to me.
But where is the baby with Faith can compare?
What is the colour of Peterkin's hair?
Who can make Christopher clear to my sight,
Or show me the eyes of my daughter Delight?
When people inquire I always just state:
"I have four nice children and hope to have eight.
Though the first four are pretty and certain to please,
Who knows but the rest may be nicer than these?"
The Gift. [Louis V. Ledoux]
Let others give you wealth and love,
And guard you while you live;
I cannot set my gift above
The gifts that others give.
And yet the gift I give is good:
In one man's eyes to see
The worship of your maidenhood
While children climb your knee.
The Ancient Beautiful Things. [Fannie Stearns Davis]
I am all alone in the room.
The evening stretches before me
Like a road all delicate gloom
Till it reaches the midnight's gate.
And I hear his step on the path,
And his questioning whistle, low
At the door as I hurry to meet him.
He will ask, "Are the doors all locked?
Is the fire made safe on the hearth?
And she — is she sound asleep?"
I shall say, "Yes, the doors are locked,
And the ashes are white as the frost:
Only a few red eyes
To stare at the empty room.
And she is all sound asleep,
Up there where the silence sings,
And the curtains stir in the cold."