GRIEF held me silent in my seat; I neither moved nor smiled: Joy held her silent at my feet, My shining lily-child. She raised her face and looked in mine; She deemed herself denied; The door was shut, there was no shine; Poor she was left outside! Once, twice, three times, with infant grace Her lips my name did mould; Her face was pulling at my face— She was but ten months old. I saw; the sight rebuked my sighs; It made me think—Does God Need help from his poor children's eyes To ease him of his load? Ah, if he did, how seldom then The Father would be glad! If comfort lay in the eyes of men, He little comfort had! We cry to him in evil case, When comfort sore we lack; And when we troubled seek his face, Consoled he sends us back; Nor waits for prayer to rise and climb— He wakes the sleeping prayer; He is our father all the time, And servant everywhere. I looked not up; foreboding hid Kept down my heart the while; 'Twas he looked up; my Father did Smile in my infant's smile. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG OF HIAWATHA: PICTURE-WRITING by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW IMPROMPTU TO LADY WINCHILSEA by ALEXANDER POPE SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 92 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE PRELUDE: BOOK 1. CHILDHOOD AND SCHOOL-TIME by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH ONE WOMAN by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH TWO KINDS OF RICHES by WILLIAM BLAKE THE MATCH by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |