The Children's Angel
But when we clasped our treasure in our hold—
Less perfect, like all treasure, being attained—
Behold, below the lovely eyes, behold
About the mouth, the radiant face was stained!
"True!" quoth the Vendor, "yet if words or blows
Were ought avail, or children less a pest.
Those lips and eyes would blossom like the rose! . .
The children never cared to kiss the rest.
"But every day, all weathers, wet or fine,
Since first I hung your Angel at the door,
Each blessed morning, on the stroke of nine.
And every week-day evening after four,
"The children from the school-house troop in bands.
Rush down the street their helter-skelter run.
Snatch at your Angel with their chubby hands.
And laugh and leap to kiss it one by one.
"And would you think they minded, if I played
My lash about their necks? Who cares? Not they!
For impudent, delighted, unafraid.
They laugh their riotous laugh and rush away."
The Merchant paused. We looked each in the face
The other, bade our fancy one farewell;
"Nay, keep your Angel in its olden place,"
We cried, "good friend; it is not yours to sell.
"What, did you think us basest of the earth?
That we, grown old, and heartsick with the truth,
Should rob the little children of their mirth,
And take the children's Angel from their youth."
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