Classic Poem

THE CHILD'S HEART

The child's gold hair is full of summer sun;
The child's soft laugh is like the rippling sea,
Silver, and full of thoughtless harmless glee;
She gives thee all her treasures seen of none.
But thou who hast the child's white spirit won,
Be heedful with it, — fling it not away;
Remember there may come a day — a day —
When no swift childish feet by thine may run.

Be heedful of her; if she weary thee,
Be patient: bear with folly, for love's sake:
Fruit of thy travail thou shalt one day see;
Small things make weaker hearts and childlike ache;
Great is the worth of spotless purity;
Be gentle with her, lest the child's heart break.

But sympathy can draw, though distance parts
The lovers, — if a man can see , he holds
The woman, and indisputably folds
Her silent spirit to his heart of hearts.
O'er starless space his conquering swift thought darts:
Into his image all her shape he moulds;
Though seas between them lie and barren wolds,
And sunstruck deserts, at one sigh he starts.

One gentle sigh can bring his spirit near,
One look for help, one utterance of a fear,
For he, he only of all men, understands:
So, though as far divided as the poles
In earthly distance, the sweet close-knit souls
Lock equal indivisible white hands.