 | The works of Francis Thompson |  |
175
LOVE AND THE CHILD
‘Why do you so clasp me,
And draw me to your knee?
Forsooth, you do but chafe me,
I pray you let me be:
I will but be loved now and then
When it liketh me!’
And draw me to your knee?
Forsooth, you do but chafe me,
I pray you let me be:
I will but be loved now and then
When it liketh me!’
So I heard a young child,
A thwart child, a young child
Rebellious against love's arms,
Make its peevish cry.
A thwart child, a young child
Rebellious against love's arms,
Make its peevish cry.
To the tender God I turn:—
‘Pardon, Love most High!
For I think those arms were even Thine,
And that child even I.’
‘Pardon, Love most High!
For I think those arms were even Thine,
And that child even I.’
| The works of Francis Thompson | |