Classic Poem

Sweet child amid the apple boughs,
How tenderly life looks on thee!
And Mother Nature brings her gifts,
Yes, e'en the loveliest that may be,

To tempt thy innocent regard.
How blue the heavens smile above!
How crimson is the rose's depth!
How beaming is the glance of love,

Resting on thee, thou sportive fay;
Thou learnst new lessons 'mid the leaves;
All golden-lettered is the page
The flitting sunbeam deftly weaves.

Do fairies hang their glow-worm lamps
To light thy path adown the dell?
And does the lily in the vale,
To thee ring soft her magic bell?

The violet, and what brings she
To scatter o'er thy charmed way?
Delicious perfume; and the lark
Prolongs his note to cheer thy day.

There is a radiance in thine eyes
That well disarms all vague unrest;
Thou hast few yearnings undefined,
Thy childish griefs are soon confessed.

Prayer in thy soul is simple trust,
And love is all thy life, sweet child!
The woodbird's song is not more free,
His artless lays more undefiled

Than thine. Thy sunny countenance
Is naught save gladness, yet we know
The thoughtful years come on apace;
After Spring's green, the Winter's snow.

And for thee, tender one, we ask
That when the hours of trial near,
As come they must, undaunted thou
Wilt dare to meet them without fear.

And that the dew within thy soul,
Of innocence and rev'rent love,
May be as fresh as now, until
Thou wear'st a crown of light above.