POEMS.
101
Perpetual summer to earth's children bring,
Dear God, who knows too well poor human woe,
The world's frail wealth of love that bears a wing
All swift as brittle for weak souls below.
We look to Thee, oh Christ! and fain our homesick eyes
Would close to wake, beneath the palms of Paradise!
Dear God, who knows too well poor human woe,
The world's frail wealth of love that bears a wing
All swift as brittle for weak souls below.
We look to Thee, oh Christ! and fain our homesick eyes
Would close to wake, beneath the palms of Paradise!
MY LITTLE NAMESAKE.
"Sweet childish days that were as long
As twenty days are now."—Wordsworth.
As twenty days are now."—Wordsworth.
LITTLE Alice in the garden
Shouts and plays the live-long day
And you cannot put a word in,
"Little puss" is all you say.
In and out the garden closes,
A wild rose amid the roses!
Shouts and plays the live-long day
And you cannot put a word in,
"Little puss" is all you say.
In and out the garden closes,
A wild rose amid the roses!
She will lean on tiptoe beaming,
Her blue eyes so full and bright
In your own, whose mystic dreaming
Is not meet to cloud her sight.
Darling, ne'er may sin nor sorrow
Greet you in the dim to-morrow.
Her blue eyes so full and bright
In your own, whose mystic dreaming
Is not meet to cloud her sight.
Darling, ne'er may sin nor sorrow
Greet you in the dim to-morrow.
Little Alice, with your golden
Hair a-blowing in the breeze,
In a rippled sunshine folden,
Happy as the honey bees.
Hair a-blowing in the breeze,
In a rippled sunshine folden,
Happy as the honey bees.
