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73
The Children's Garden.
(A PLOT IN THE CHURCHYARD AT WHITTINGTON RESERVED FOR CHILDREN ONLY.)
Where is the children's garden-ground?—
Near the church, where the stately lime
Hums all day with a dreamy sound
In the leafy summer-time.
Near the church, where the stately lime
Hums all day with a dreamy sound
In the leafy summer-time.
What is the seed in that garden sown?—
It is poor and feeble and little worth,
And we sow it in tears, in the cold dim earth
Buried deep deep down.
It is poor and feeble and little worth,
And we sow it in tears, in the cold dim earth
Buried deep deep down.
Tell me, when will the Spring-tide be?—
When the Day-star riseth upon the gloom,
And He who maketh each flower and tree
Biddeth the garden bloom.
When the Day-star riseth upon the gloom,
And He who maketh each flower and tree
Biddeth the garden bloom.
How will blossom that garden-plot?—
Rows of lilies, all pure and white
As woodland snow-wreaths without a spot,
Shining with living light.
Rows of lilies, all pure and white
As woodland snow-wreaths without a spot,
Shining with living light.
74
What are those blossoms so brightly fair?—
The little ones, at the trumpet's sound
Springing up in their beauty there
From the children's garden-ground.
The little ones, at the trumpet's sound
Springing up in their beauty there
From the children's garden-ground.
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