The gates are locked," quoth little Garaine,
"But the way I am going to tell!
The key of your heart it will open them all
And there's where the darlings dwell!"
(To Lady Margaret Cavendish Holles-Harley, when a Child)
My noble, lovely, little Peggy,
Let this my First Epistle beg ye,
At dawn of morn, and close of even,
To lift your heart and hands to Heaven.
In double duty say your prayer:
Our Father first, then Notre Père.
And, dearest child, along the day,
In every thing you do and say,
Obey and please my lord and lady,
So God shall love and angels aid ye.
If to these precepts you attend,
No second letter need I send,
And so I rest your constant friend.
Matthew Prior.
Love and the Child
Toys, and treats, and pleasures pass Like a shadow in a glass,
Like the smoke that mounts on high,
Like a noonday's butterfly.
Quick they come and quick they end,
Like the money that I spend ;
Some to-day, to-morrow more,
Short, like those that went before.
Mother, fold me to your knees!
How much should I care for these--
Little joys that come and go!
If you did not love me so?
And when things are sad or wrong,
Then I know that love is strong;
When I ache, or when I weep,
Then I know that love is deep.
Father, now my prayer is said,
Lay your hand upon my head!
Pleasures pass from day to day,
But I know that love will stay.
While I sleep it will be near;
I shall wake and find it here;
I shall feel it in the air
When I say my morning prayer.
Maker of this little heart!
Lord of love I know thou art!
Little heart! though thou forget,
Still the love is round thee set.
Brown eyes, straight nose;
Dirt pies, rumpled clothes.
Torn books, spoilt toys:
Arch looks, unlike a boy's;
Little rages, obvious arts;
(Three her age is), cakes, tarts;
Falling down off chairs;
Breaking crown down stairs;
Catching flies on the pane;
Deep sighs-cause not plain;
Bribing you with kisses
For a few farthing blisses.
Wide-a-wake; as you hear,
'Mercy's sake, quiet, dear!"
New shoes, new frock;
Vague views of what's o'clock
When it's time to go to bed,
And scorn sublime for what is said.
Folded hands, saying prayers,
Understands not nor cares-
Thinks it odd, smiles away;
Yet may God hear her
Bed gown white, kiss Dolly;
Good night!—that's Polly.
Fast asleep, as you see,
Heaven keep my girl for me!
William Brighty Rands.
What can lambkins do
All the keen night through?
Nestle by their woolly mother
The careful ewe.
What can nestlings do
In the nightly dew?
Sleep beneath their mother's wing
Till day breaks anew.
If in field or tree
There might only be
Such a warm soft sleeping-place
A Child's Laughter
All the bells of heaven may ring,
All the birds of heaven may sing,
All the wells on earth may spring,
All the winds on earth may bring
All sweet sounds together;
Sweeter far than all things heard,
Hand of harper, tone of bird,
Sound of woods at sundawn stirred,
Welling water's winsome word,
Wind in warm, wan weather.
One thing yet there is that none
Hearing, ere its chime be done
Knows not well the sweetest one
Heard of man beneath the sun,
Hoped in heaven hereafter;
Soft and strong and loud and light,
Very sound of very light,
Heard from morning's rosiest height,
When the soul of all delight
Fills a child's clear laughter.
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