A Child of the People And Other Poems. By James Chapman Woods |
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 | A Child of the People |  |
I.
O little sister, not so long ago
The Bible names were giants in your path,
Terrible as to Israel he of Gath,
Whom yet you, pigmy, learned to overthrow.
Hardly you reach my shoulder now, tiptoe.
That trustful, wondering look which a child hath
In limpid eyes unvexed of the world's scathe,
Says plain as words, “I am a child's, you know!”
The Bible names were giants in your path,
Terrible as to Israel he of Gath,
Whom yet you, pigmy, learned to overthrow.
Hardly you reach my shoulder now, tiptoe.
That trustful, wondering look which a child hath
In limpid eyes unvexed of the world's scathe,
Says plain as words, “I am a child's, you know!”
Why, only now the dolls began to grieve,
Imprisoned where, before, the puzzles stood.
I vow I think you stole there yester-eve
To bribe them with caresses to be good:
Yet, for all this, you try to make believe
That vou to-day are crowned with womanhood!
Imprisoned where, before, the puzzles stood.
I vow I think you stole there yester-eve
To bribe them with caresses to be good:
Yet, for all this, you try to make believe
That vou to-day are crowned with womanhood!
| A Child of the People | |