Till her outstretched hands smiled also, And I almost seemed to see The very heart of her mother Sending sun through her veins to me! She had been with us scarce a twelvemonth, Stole my little daughter away; But they left instead a changeling, A little angel child, That seems like her bud in full blossom, And I feel as weak as a violet As weak, yet as trustful also ; All the wonders of faithful Nature Still worked for the love of me; Winds wander, and dews drip earthward, Rain falls, suns rise and set, Earth whirls, and all but to prosper This child is not mine as the first was, I cannot sing it to rest, I cannot lift it up fatherly And bliss it upon my breast; Yet it lies in my little one's cradle And sits in my little one's chair, And the light of the heaven she 's gone to Transfigures its golden hair. THE SHEPHERD OF KING ADMETUS. HERE came a youth upon the earth, Some thousand years ago, Whose slender hands were nothing worth, Whether to plough, or reap, or sow. Upon an empty tortoise-shell He stretched some chords, and drew Music that made men's bosoms swell Fearless, or brimmed their eyes with dew. Then King Admetus, one who had To hear between the cups of wine : And so, well pleased with being soothed Into a sweet half-sleep, Three times his kingly beard he smoothed, And made him viceroy o'er his sheep. His words were simple words enough, That what in other mouths was rough Men called him but a shiftless youth, And yet, unwittingly, in truth, They made his careless words their law. They knew not how he learned at all, He sat and watched the dead leaves fall, It seemed the loveliness of things Did teach him all their use, For, in mere weeds, and stones, and springs, He found a healing power profuse. Men granted that his speech was wise, But, when a glance they caught Of his slim grace and woman's eyes, They laughed, and called him good-fornaught. Yet after he was dead and gone, And e'en his memory dim, Earth seemed more sweet to live upon, More full of love, because of him. And day by day more holy grew AMBROSE. |EVER, surely, was holier man With diet gan; spare and raiment thin He shielded himself from the father of sin; Through earnest prayer and watchings long At last he builded a perfect faith, Fenced round about with The Lord thus saith; |