CHANCE-CHILD of some lone sorrow on the hills, Bach finds a babe: instant the great heart fills With love of that fair innocence, Conveys it thence, Clothes it with all divinest harmonies, Gives it sure foot to tread the dim degrees Of Pilate's stair -- Hush! hush! its last sweet breath Wails far along the passages of death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VOICELESS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES THE PHILOSOPHER by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE MEANING OF PRAYER by JAMES MONTGOMERY THE AGE OF WISDOM by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY CHARACTERS: SUSANNAH BARBAULD MARISSAL by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |