These are left me, and these only,
Of the childish presence bright.
Thus He sent an answer to my earnest praying,
Thus He keeps my darling free from earthly stain,
Thus He folds the pet lamb safe from earthly straying;
But I miss her sadly by the window-pane.
Till I look above it; then, with purer vision,
Sad, I weep no longer the lilac-bush to pass,
For I see her angel, pure, and white, and sinless,
Walking with the harpers by the Sea of Glass.
Two little snowy wings
Softly flutter to and fro;
Two tiny childish hands
Beckon still to me below;
Two tender angel eyes
Watch me ever earnestly
Through the loopholes of the stars;
Baby's looking out for me.
THE CAPTIVE CLOUD.
A CLOUD crept low in the valley's breast,
Like a weary bird in its cradle nest;
Its soft white arms round the forest flung,
Whilst its dusky feet to the streamlet clung.
When, lo! Ranger Westwind shook the leaves
And unloosed the zone of the cloudy sheaves—