 | Irish Poems |  |
74
THE CHILDREN'S WAY
To Sissie
The children bear our froward mood,
Patient, enduring still.
Our anger like a heat in the blood
That strikes with little skill.
Patient, enduring still.
Our anger like a heat in the blood
That strikes with little skill.
Because our way is choked with tares
And fears beset our sleep;
Because we weary Heaven with prayers
Lest that the children weep.
And fears beset our sleep;
Because we weary Heaven with prayers
Lest that the children weep.
The children must be warmed and fed,
The children most adored:
Give them this day their daily bread!
What of to-morrow, Lord?
The children most adored:
Give them this day their daily bread!
What of to-morrow, Lord?
Therefore we strike them at their play
And grieve their hearts and chill:
O Lord, be patient with the clay
Thou'st moulded to Thy will.
And grieve their hearts and chill:
O Lord, be patient with the clay
Thou'st moulded to Thy will.
75
See, Lord, the children understand!
Loyal and piteous
They take the wounding from Love's hand.
See, Lord,—they bear with us.
Loyal and piteous
They take the wounding from Love's hand.
See, Lord,—they bear with us.
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