Page:Poems Thaxter.djvu/40

He looks from the eyes of the little child.
 And searches souls with their gaze so clear;
To the heart some agony makes wild
 He whispers, "I am here."

He smiles in the face of every flower;
 In the swallow's twitter of sweet content
He speaks, and we follow through every hour
 The way his deep thought went.

Here should be courage and hope and faith;
 Nought has escaped the trace of his hand;
And a voice in the heart of his silence saith,
 One day we shall understand.