140
A LITTLE CHILD'S MONUMENT.
Sank trustfully to rest—
But in the self-same hour
My form the cold earth pressed…
… An orbèd luminous haze-lily,
For pistil the Moon-pearl!
Ringed round with daffadowndilly,
A halo of blown curl,
As of young angels kneeling,
A reverent band aloof!
Earth smiles in the revealing
Of Heaven's aery woof.
The stranger child I lifted
Wan lieth where he fell;
His scanty raiment rifted,
And woeworn features tell
Of a lifelong famine,
Of cruelty and pain:
And now, while I examine
The piteous face again,
Meseems there dawns a kindred
To a long-lost face;
While wakening unhindered
Wings of filmy grace
From the poor frayed swathings
Of his soiled garments break,
And delicate soft bathings
In the moon-sphere make.
