"IF I WERE DEAD" "If I were dead, you'd sometimes say, Poor Child!" The dear lips quivered as they spake, And the tears brake From eyes which, not to grieve me, brightly smiled. I seem to hear your laugh, your talk, your song. Poor Child! And did you think, when you so cried and smiled, How I, in lonely nights, should lie awake, And of those words your full avengers make? Poor Child, poor Child! And now, unless it be That sweet amends thrice told are come to thee, O God, have Thou no mercy upon me! Poor Child! Coventry Patmore [1823-1896] THE TOYS My little Son, who looked from thoughtful eyes With hard words and unkissed, -His Mother, who was patient, being dead. But found him slumbering deep, With darkened eyelids, and their lashes yet From his late sobbing wet. And I, with moan, Kissing away his tears, left others of my own; For, on a table drawn beside his head, He had put, within his reach, A box of counters and a red-veined stone, A piece of glass abraded by the beach, A Song of Twilight 283 And six or seven shells, A bottle with bluebells, And two French copper coins, ranged there with careful art, To comfort his sad heart. So when that night I prayed To God, I wept, and said: Ah, when at last we lie with tranced breath, Not vexing Thee in death, And Thou rememberest of what toys We made our joys, How weakly understood Thy great commanded good, Then, fatherly not less Than I whom Thou hast moulded from the clay, Thou'lt leave Thy wrath, and say, "I will be sorry for their childishness." Coventry Patmore [1823-1896] A SONG OF TWILIGHT Oн, to come home once more, when the dusk is falling, To see the nursery lighted and the children's table spread; "Mother, mother, mother!" the eager voices calling, "The baby was so sleepy that he had to go to bed!" Oh, to come home once more, and see the smiling faces, Men and women now they are, standing straight and steady, Shoulder set to shoulder, how should they be but ready! The future shines before them with the light of their own eyes. Still each answers to my call; no good has been denied me, My burdens have been fitted to the little strength that's mine, Beauty, pride and peace have walked by day beside me, But oh, to see once more, when the early dusk is falling, The nursery windows glowing and the children's table spread; "Mother, mother, mother!" the high child-voices calling, "He couldn't stay awake for you, he had to go to bed!” Unknown LITTLE BOY BLUE THE little toy dog is covered with dust, And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue "Now, don't you go till I come," he said, And, as he was dreaming, an angel song Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand, Each in the same old place, Awaiting the touch of a little hand, The smile of a little face; And they wonder, as waiting the long years through, In the dust of that little chair, What has become of our Little Boy Blue, Since he kissed them and put them there. Eugene Field [1850-1895] THE DISCOVERER I HAVE a little kinsman Whose earthly summers are but three, And yet a voyager is he Greater then Drake or Frobisher, The Discoverer Than all their peers together! And, far beyond the tether Of them who seek the frozen Pole, A winged pilot steered his bark Suddenly, in his fair young hour, "Henceforth thou art a rover! Since that time no word From the absent has been heard. Who can tell How he fares, or answer well From the pricking of his chart How the skyey roadways part. Hush! does not the baby this way bring, To lay beside this severed curl, Some starry offering Of chrysolite or pearl? Ah, no! not so! We may follow on his track, But he comes not back. 285 And yet I dare aver He is a brave discoverer Of climes his elders do not know. He has more learning than appears On the scroll of twice three thousand years, Or from furthest Indies brought; He knows, perchance, how spirits fare,- What is their guise and speech In those lands beyond our reach, And his eyes behold Things that shall never, never be to mortal hearers told. Edmund Clarence Stedman [1833-1908] A CHRYSALIS My little Mädchen found one day Or crept, or climbed, or swam, or flew; She brought in her tiny hand With doubtful look she answered me. |