Her heart knew naught of sorrow, Nor the vaguest taint of sin -- 'Twas an ever-blooming blossom Of the purity within: And her hands knew only touches Of the mother's gentle care, And the kisses and caresses Through the interludes of prayer. Her baby-feet had journeyed Such a little distance here, They could have found no briers In the path to interfere; The little cross she carried Could not weary her, we know, For it lay as lightly on her As a shadow on the snow. And yet the way before us -- O how empty now and drear! -- How ev'n the dews of roses Seem as dripping tears for her! And the song-birds all seem crying, As the winds cry and the rain, All sobbingly, -- "We want -- we want Our little girl again!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FAITH AND DESPONDENCY by EMILY JANE BRONTE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 28 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ODE FOR THE AMERICAN DEAD IN ASIA by THOMAS MCGRATH PARTING by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE LAUGHING CORN by CARL SANDBURG DISILLUSIONMENT OF TEN O'CLOCK by WALLACE STEVENS |