XI

As light on a lake's face moving

Between a cloud and a cloud

Till night reclaim it, reproving

The heart that exults too loud,

The heart that watching rejoices

When soft it swims into sight

Applauded of all the voices

And stars of the windy night,

So brief and unsure, but sweeter

Than ever a moondawn smiled,

Moves, measured of no tune's metre,

The song in the soul of a child;

The song that the sweet soul singing

Half listens, and hardly hears,

Though sweeter than joy-bells ringing

And brighter than joy's own tears;

The song that remembrance of pleasure

Begins, and forgetfulness ends

With a soft swift change in the measure

That rings in remembrance of friends

As the moon on the lake's face flashes,

So haply may gleam at whiles

A dream through the dear deep lashes

Whereunder a child's eye smiles,

And the least of us all that love him

May take for a moment part

With angels around and above him,

And I find place in his heart.