Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/301
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THE DUMB CHILD.
283
Her face is very fair,
Her blue eyes beautiful, of finest mould.
Her soft white brow, o'er which in waves of gold.
Kippies her shining hair;
Alas! this lovely temple closed must be,
For He who made it keeps the master-key.
Her blue eyes beautiful, of finest mould.
Her soft white brow, o'er which in waves of gold.
Kippies her shining hair;
Alas! this lovely temple closed must be,
For He who made it keeps the master-key.
While He the mind within
Should from earth's Babel-clamour be kept free
E'en that His still small voice and step might be
Heard at its inner shrine,
Through that deep hush of soul with clearer thrill,
Then should I grieve? Oh, murmuring heart be still.
Should from earth's Babel-clamour be kept free
E'en that His still small voice and step might be
Heard at its inner shrine,
Through that deep hush of soul with clearer thrill,
Then should I grieve? Oh, murmuring heart be still.
She seems to have a sense
Of quiet gladness in her noiseless play;
She hath a pleasant smile, a gentle way,
Whose voiceless eloquence
Touches all hearts, though I had. once the fear
That even her father would not care for her.
Of quiet gladness in her noiseless play;
She hath a pleasant smile, a gentle way,
Whose voiceless eloquence
Touches all hearts, though I had. once the fear
That even her father would not care for her.
Thank God! it is not so;
And when his sons are playing merrily,
She comes and leans her head upon his knee.
Oh! at such times I know
By the full eye and tone subdued and mild,
How his heart yearns over his silent child.
And when his sons are playing merrily,
She comes and leans her head upon his knee.
Oh! at such times I know
By the full eye and tone subdued and mild,
How his heart yearns over his silent child.
Not of all gifts bereft
E'en now—how could I say she did not speak?
What real language lights her eye and cheek.
In thanks to Him who left
Unto her soul, yet open avenues
For joy to enter, and for love to use!
E'en now—how could I say she did not speak?
What real language lights her eye and cheek.
In thanks to Him who left
Unto her soul, yet open avenues
For joy to enter, and for love to use!
And God, in love, doth give
To her defect a beauty of its own;
And we a deeper tenderness have shown,
Through that for which we grieve;
Yet shall the seal be melted from her ear—
Yea, and my voice shall fill it—but not here.
To her defect a beauty of its own;
And we a deeper tenderness have shown,
Through that for which we grieve;
Yet shall the seal be melted from her ear—
Yea, and my voice shall fill it—but not here.
When that new sense is given,
What rapture will its first experience be,
That never woke to meaner melody
Than the rich songs of heaven,
To hear the full-toned anthem swelling round,
While angels teach the ecstasies of sound.
What rapture will its first experience be,
That never woke to meaner melody
Than the rich songs of heaven,
To hear the full-toned anthem swelling round,
While angels teach the ecstasies of sound.