 | Poems of Rural Life in Common English |  |
10
THE CHILD LOST
When evening is closing in all round,
And winds in the dark-bough'd timber sound,
The flame of my candle, dazzling bright,
May shine full clear—full clear may shine,
But never can show my child to sight.
And winds in the dark-bough'd timber sound,
The flame of my candle, dazzling bright,
May shine full clear—full clear may shine,
But never can show my child to sight.
And warm is the bank, where boughs are still,
On timber below the windward hill,
But now, in the stead of summer hay,
Dead leaves are cast—are cast dead leaves,
Where lately I saw my child at play.
On timber below the windward hill,
But now, in the stead of summer hay,
Dead leaves are cast—are cast dead leaves,
Where lately I saw my child at play.
11
And Oh! could I see, as may be known
To angels, my little maid full grown,
As time would have made her, woman tall,
If she had lived—if lived had she
And not have died now, so young and small.
To angels, my little maid full grown,
As time would have made her, woman tall,
If she had lived—if lived had she
And not have died now, so young and small.
Do children that go to heaven play?
Are young that were gay, in heaven gay?
Are old people bow'd by weak'ning time,
In heaven bow'd,—all bow'd in heaven?
Or else are they all in blissful prime?
Are young that were gay, in heaven gay?
Are old people bow'd by weak'ning time,
In heaven bow'd,—all bow'd in heaven?
Or else are they all in blissful prime?
Yes, blest with all blessings are the blest,
Their lowest of good's above our best,
So show me the highest soul you can
In shape and mind—in mind and shape
Yet far above him is heaven's man.
Their lowest of good's above our best,
So show me the highest soul you can
In shape and mind—in mind and shape
Yet far above him is heaven's man.
| Poems of Rural Life in Common English | |