THEIR LOST PICTURE.
"No, it was nothing old and grand:
Only a child, out in the sun,
Choking a kitten with one hand,
And crushing pretty flowers with one.
Only a child, out in the sun,
Choking a kitten with one hand,
And crushing pretty flowers with one.
"Some rosebuds, sweet as buds could be,
Were blown against the blowing hair;
The clear eyes watched a cedar-tree,
That held a red-bird flaming there.
Were blown against the blowing hair;
The clear eyes watched a cedar-tree,
That held a red-bird flaming there.
"The frame around was dark and small.
Just opposite the open door,
One morning, on our cottage wall
It hung, when we were young and poor.
Just opposite the open door,
One morning, on our cottage wall
It hung, when we were young and poor.
"This little piece of light and bloom
Was more, a thousand times, to me
Than all you have seen in great church-gloom,
Or palace-gallery light, could be.
Was more, a thousand times, to me
Than all you have seen in great church-gloom,
Or palace-gallery light, could be.
"———You do not understand, I say.
We saw the picture in the glass,
In our first home so far away,
When our dead child played in the grass"
We saw the picture in the glass,
In our first home so far away,
When our dead child played in the grass"
