CHILDHOOD.

A child of scarcely seven years,

Light haired, and fair as any lily;

With pure eyes ready in their tears

At chiding words, or glances chilly;

And sudden smiles, as inly bright

As lamps through alabaster shining,

With ready mirth, and fancies light,

Dashed with strange dreams of child-divining:

A child in all infantile grace,

Yet with the angel lingering in her face.

A curious, eager, questioning child,

Whose logic leads to naive conclusions;

Her little knowledge reconciled

To truth amid some odd confusions;

Yet credulous, and loving much

The problems hardest for her reason,

Placing her lovely faith on such,

And deeming disbelief a treason;

Doubting that which she can disprove,

And wisely trusting all the rest to love.

Such graces dwell beside your hearth,

And bless you in a priceless pleasure,

Leaving no sweeter spot on earth

Than that which holds your household treasure.

No entertainment ever yet

Had half the exquisite completeness —

The gladness without one regret,

You gather from your darling's sweetness:

An angel sits beside the hearth

Where e're an innocent child is found on earth.