A Child of the People And Other Poems. By James Chapman Woods |
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FOR THE CHILDREN. |
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 | A Child of the People |  |
89
FOR THE CHILDREN.
O children, fresh-foot travellers,
Who onward pass through flowers as yet,
Nor see the sharp-spiked hedge of furze
Across the pathway set,
Who onward pass through flowers as yet,
Nor see the sharp-spiked hedge of furze
Across the pathway set,
With mimic world in narrow bounds,
And sorrow, spent when falls a tear,
To what wide ends God moulds and rounds
Your lives' hereafter here!
And sorrow, spent when falls a tear,
To what wide ends God moulds and rounds
Your lives' hereafter here!
Must you, who half in heaven now tread,
The furthest stray? It is God's plan
To leave the chains unriveted
Wherewith he tethers man.
The furthest stray? It is God's plan
To leave the chains unriveted
Wherewith he tethers man.
I, mounted to life's barren brow,
Turning to mark the lower place,
Find Truth was nearer then than now,
And fairer far God's face.
Turning to mark the lower place,
Find Truth was nearer then than now,
And fairer far God's face.
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Listen! You children are God's glass,
Wherein His whiteness mirrors best.
Time's breathings o'er the surface pass;
It clouds beneath the test.
Wherein His whiteness mirrors best.
Time's breathings o'er the surface pass;
It clouds beneath the test.
Deem not, young hearts, my love untrue,
That I could pray for you to die,
Ere I grow sadder, seeing you
Outlive all faith as I!
That I could pray for you to die,
Ere I grow sadder, seeing you
Outlive all faith as I!
| A Child of the People | |