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| THE WIND blew wide the casement, and within— | |
| It was the loveliest picture!—a sweet child | |
| Lay in its mother’s arms, and drew its life, | |
| In pauses, from the fountain,—the white round | |
| Part shaded by loose tresses, soft and dark, | 5 |
| Concealing, but still showing, the fair realm | |
| Of so much rapture, as green shadowing trees | |
| With beauty shroud the brooklet. The red lips | |
| Were parted, and the cheek upon the breast | |
| Lay close, and, like the young leaf of the flower, | 10 |
| Wore the same color, rich and warm and fresh:— | |
| And such alone are beautiful. Its eye, | |
| A full blue gem, most exquisitely set, | |
| Looked archly on its world,—the little imp, | |
| As if it knew even then that such a wreath | 15 |
| Were not for all; and with its playful hands | |
| It drew aside the robe that hid its realm, | |
| And peeped and laughed aloud, and so it laid | |
| Its head upon the shrine of such pure joys, | |
| And, laughing, slept. And while it slept, the tears | 20 |
| Of the sweet mother fell upon its cheek,— | |
| Tears such as fall from April skies, and bring | |
| The sunlight after. They were tears of joy; | |
| And the true heart of that young mother then | |
| Grew lighter, and she sang unconsciously | 25 |
| The silliest ballad-song that ever yet | |
| Subdued the nursery’s voices, and brought sleep | |
| To fold her sabbath wings above its couch. | |
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