Th' ambition of a kingdom. Turn'd her high heart away! From all this She had a mind, Deep, and immortal, and it would not feed On pageantry. She thirsted for a spring She was allay'd,-till, presently, it turn'd ON THE PICTURE OF A "CHILD TIRED OF PLAY." TIRED of play! Tired of play! What hast thou done this livelong day? The sun is creeping up steeple and tree; The doves have flown to the sheltering eaves, And the nests are dark with the drooping leaves; How hast thou spent it-restless one? Playing? But what hast thou done beside To tell thy mother at eventide? What promise of morn is left unbroken? What kind word to thy playmate spoken? Whom hast thou pitied, and whom forgiven? How with thy faults has duty striven? There will come an eve to a longer day, That will find thee tired-but not of play And thou wilt lean, as thou leanest now, Well were it then if thine aching brow Well for thee, if thy lip could tell A tale like this, of a day spent well. From the creeping worm to the brooding dove- Hath plead with thy human heart unheard-- It will bring relief to thine aching brow, And, with joy and peace at the thought of rest, Thou wilt sink to sleep on thy mother's breast. A CHILD'S FIRST IMPRESSION OF A STAR. SHE had been told that God made all the stars Fill'd her young heart with gladness, and the eve Of sunset, where the blue was melted in ON WITNESSING A BAPTISM. SHE stood up in the meekness of a heart Resting on God, and held her fair young child Upon her bosom, with its gentle eyes Folded in sleep, as if its soul had gone To whisper the baptismal vow in heaven. The prayer went up devoutly, and the lips Of the good man glow'd fervently with faith That it would be, even as he had pray'd, And the sweet child be gather'd to the fold Of Jesus. As the holy words went on Her lips moved silently, and tears, fast tears, Stole from beneath her lashes, and upon The forehead of the beautiful child lay soft With the baptismal water. Then I thought That, to the eye of God, that mother's tears Would be a deeper covenant-which sin And the temptations of the world, and death, Would leave unbroken-and that she would know In the clear light of heaven, how very strong The prayer which press'd them from her heart had been In leading its young spirit up to God. |