 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere
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IX.
She sat amid a soft-eyed company
Of little children, whom she taught to love
That God who deigned a child on earth to move,—
And, loving Him, to fear. Hand, lip, and eye,
And many a smile and sometimes a short sigh
Were beautiful to incite and to reprove;
And with that holier wisdom from above
Enlarge our sorrowful humanity.
And yet, O blameless, and thyself a child!
How canst thou teach? Thy rosy lips make sweet
The faults they fain would chide! Of all that group
The timidest such wrath as thine would meet
Gladly, if so that dovelike hand might droop
Upon her shoulder or her tresses wild.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere
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