Go to!' say the children,-"
Dark, wheel-like, turning
Do not mock us; grief has n
We look up for God, but te
Do you hear the children we
O my brothers, what
For God's possible is taught
And the children dou

And well may the children
They are weary ere t
They have never seen the st
Which is brighter the

They know the grief of man
They sink in man's despai
Are slaves, without the libe

Are orphans of the earthly 1
Let them weep! let t

Are martyrs, by the pang Are worn, as if with age, ye The harvest of its me

the test, go in music

They look up, with their pale
And their look is dread

For they mind you of their an
With eyes turned on D

'How long,' they say, 'how lo

Will you stand, to move th

heart,

Stifle down with a mailed heel

And tread onward to your th

Go to!' say the children,-'up in Heaven,

Dark, wheel-like, turning clouds are all we find Do not mock us; grief has made us unbelieving— We look up for God, but tears have made us blind Do you hear the children weeping and disproving, O my brothers, what ye preach?

For God's possible is taught by his world's loving And the children doubt of each.

XII.

And well may the children weep before you!
They are weary ere they run.

They have never seen the sunshine, nor the glory,
Which is brighter than the sun.

They know the grief of man, without his wisdom.
They sink in man's despair, without its calm;
Are slaves, without the liberty in Christdom,
Are martyrs, by the pang without the palm,—
Are worn, as if with age, yet unretrievingly

The harvest of its memories cannot reap,Are orphans of the earthly love and heavenly. Let them weep! let them weep!

XIII.

They look up, with their pale and sunken faces, And their look is dread to see,

For they mind you of their angels in high places, With eyes turned on Deity!—

'How long,' they say, 'how long, O cruel nation, Will you stand, to move the world, on a child' heart,

Stifle down with a mailed heel its palpitation,

And tread onward to your throne amid the mart

Our blood splashes upward, O gold-heaper,
And your purple shows your path!

But the child's sob in the silence curses deeper
Than the strong man in his wrath.'

A CHILD ASLEEP.

I.

How he sleepeth, having drunken Weary childhood's mandragore! From his pretty eyes have sunken Pleasures to make room for moreSleeping near the withered nosegay which he pulled the day before.

II.

Nosegays! leave them for the waking.
Throw them earthward where they grew.
Dim are such, beside the breaking

Amaranths he looks unto.

Folded eyes see brighter colours than the open ever do.

III.

Heaven-flowers, rayed by shadows golden
From the palms they sprang beneath,
Now perhaps divinely holden,

Swing against him in a wreath.

We may think so from the quickening of his bloom

and of his breath.

VOL. II.-2

IV.

Vision unto vision calleth,

While the young child dreameth on.
Fair, O dreamer, thee befalleth

With the glory thou hast won!

Darker wert thou in the garden, yestermorn by

summer sun.

V.

We should see the spirits ringing

Round thee, were the clouds away.
'Tis the child-heart draws them, singing
In the silent-seeming clay.

Singing!-stars that seem the mutest, go in music all the way.

VI.

As the moths around a taper,
As the bees around a rose,
As the gnats around a vapour,

So the spirits group and close

Round about a holy childhood, as if drinking its

repose.

VII.

Shapes of brightness overlean thee,
Flash their diadems of youth

On the ringlets which half screen thee,
While thou smilest. . not in sooth

Thy smile, but the overfair one, dropt from some æthereal mouth.