 | Poems for children |  |
56
THE CRADLE.
The barn was low and dim and old,
Broad on the floor the sunshine slept,
And through the windows and the doors
Swift in and out the swallows swept.
Broad on the floor the sunshine slept,
And through the windows and the doors
Swift in and out the swallows swept.
And breezes from the summer sea
Drew through, and stirred the fragrant hay
Down-dropping from the loft, wherein
A gray old idle fish-net lay
Drew through, and stirred the fragrant hay
Down-dropping from the loft, wherein
A gray old idle fish-net lay
Heaped in a corner, and one loop
Hung loose the dry, sweet grass among,
And hammock-wise to all the winds
It floated to and fro, and swung.
Hung loose the dry, sweet grass among,
And hammock-wise to all the winds
It floated to and fro, and swung.
And there one day the children brought
The pet of all the house to play;
A baby boy of three years old,
And sweeter than the dawn of day.
The pet of all the house to play;
A baby boy of three years old,
And sweeter than the dawn of day.
They laid him in the dropping loop,
And softly swung him, till at last
Over his beauty balmy Sleep
Its delicate enchantment cast.
And softly swung him, till at last
Over his beauty balmy Sleep
Its delicate enchantment cast.
57
And then they ran to call us all:
“Come, see where little Rob is! Guess!”
And brought us where the darling lay,
A heap of rosy loveliness
“Come, see where little Rob is! Guess!”
And brought us where the darling lay,
A heap of rosy loveliness
Curled in the net: the dim old place
He brightened; like a star he shone
Cradled in air; we stood as once
The shepherds of Judea had done.
He brightened; like a star he shone
Cradled in air; we stood as once
The shepherds of Judea had done.
58
And while adoring him we gazed,
With eyes that gathered tender dew.
Wrathful upon the gentle scene
His Celtic nurse indignant flew.
With eyes that gathered tender dew.
Wrathful upon the gentle scene
His Celtic nurse indignant flew.
“Is this a fit place for the child!”
And out of his delicious sleep
She clutched him, muttering as she went,
Her scorn and wonder, low and deep.
And out of his delicious sleep
She clutched him, muttering as she went,
Her scorn and wonder, low and deep.
His father smiled, and drew aside;
A grave, sweet look was in his face,
“For One, who in a manger lay,
It was not found too poor a place!”
A grave, sweet look was in his face,
“For One, who in a manger lay,
It was not found too poor a place!”
| Poems for children | |