Poems (Geisse)/The Recess Hour

by Mary A. Geisse

THE RECESS HOUR.

Hark! it is the recess bell,
That the children love so well;
And the school doors open wide,
To let out the eager tide.
You can hear the distant hum,
Of their voices as they come.
They're as eager to be free,
As we grown folks used to be.
You will find them just the same,
If you pause to watch a game.
Some are timid, some are bold,
The same contrasts as of old.
All the various types are there,
Showing both neglect and care.
Now you see a little face,
That is ideal in its grace.
And again a pair of eyes,
That are prematurely wise.
Wise in knowledge of the woe.
That their owner should not know.
Little women, little men,
With the child-life crushed in them.
But what happy faces, too,
Will look shyly up at you.
Little faces, that in truth,
Show the magic joy of youth.
Children merry, sturdy, fair,
Wholesome as the sun and air.
And you wonder as you gaze,
Musing on their artless ways,
What hard lessons life will teach,
What will be the fate of each.
Will those restless little feet,
March to victory or defeat?
In the battle each must fight,
Who will take the side of right?
Who will triumph, who will fail,
When the Tempter shall assail?
How much sorrow—how much joy,
Waiteth for each girl and boy?