The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
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VIII. THE DEAD CHILD
But yesterday she played with childish things,
With toys and painted fruit.
To-day she may be speeding on bright wings
Beyond the stars! We ask. The stars are mute.
With toys and painted fruit.
To-day she may be speeding on bright wings
Beyond the stars! We ask. The stars are mute.
But yesterday her doll was all in all;
She laughed and was content.
To-day she will not answer, if we call:
She dropped no toys to show the road she went.
She laughed and was content.
To-day she will not answer, if we call:
She dropped no toys to show the road she went.
But yesterday she smiled and ranged with art
Her playthings on the bed.
To-day and yesterday are leagues apart!
She will not smile to-day, for she is dead.
Her playthings on the bed.
To-day and yesterday are leagues apart!
She will not smile to-day, for she is dead.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |