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TO A CHILD.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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108

TO A CHILD.

Dear child, to-morrow two years old,
What wonders in thy large blue eyes,
That gaze with such a sweet surprise
On all around, half shy, half bold;
Thy mouth a rosebud, fragrant, sweet,
A sweeter never has been seen;
A purer child-heart never beat
Than thine, Aleen.
There, lying on the summer grass,
'Mid half-blown roses fresh and fair,
An aureole crown thy sunny hair;
You laugh to see the shadows pass,
And shout with rare and true delight,
As butterflies in brilliant sheen
Flash in their beauty on your sight,
Darling Aleen.
The present is enough for thee;
No anxious thought the future brings;

109

Careless thou art as bird that sings
On leafy bough of yonder tree;
Enough for thee the balmy day,
Blue skies that gently o'er thee lean,
Sweet scents that meet thee from the hay,
Joyous Aleen.
Happy it is indeed to know
Children are always with us here;
They save us from despair and fear,
In this sad world of grief and woe;
For in their innocence and love,
A pledge of heaven by us is seen;
Of such the kingdom is above,
As thou, Aleen.
When looking in thy frank true eyes,
I often think that thou canst see
Things hidden from the world and me,
And veiled as yet in Paradise;
That thou may'st hear the sounding sweep
Of anthems floating down serene,
From heaven's own cadenced music deep,
My sweet Aleen.
Indeed I cannot choose but think
Thy wisdom larger is than mine—
A wisdom deeper, more divine;

110

That thou, dear little one, dost drink
Of springs that are unknown to me,
And by these tear-dimm'd eyes unseen,
But open founts of joy to thee,
Dearest Aleen.
It may be so. For God conceals
Much from the prudent and the wise,
That He unto the babe's clear eyes
In gracious tenderness reveals.
Child! thou art sent from higher sphere
In fittest way God's grace to prove;
None other proof we need, I ween,
That “God is good,” that “God is love,”
Than thou, Aleen.