Of the Heaven which men strive for, must need

O father ! -- O mother, look back

He lends not ; but gives to the end,

To all who bear babes -- in the hour

Unvisited over the sea,

Who tell me how lonely you stand

He gives what He gives. Be content !

To be drawn by a single gold hair

Where they loiter, persist where they cease.

With the bright fellow-locks put away

So look up, friends ! you, who indeed

What a father and mother can do,

XII.

He s ours an

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d for ever. Believe,

And the thing which He gives, I deny

Means with God not to tempt or deceive

To the safe place above us. Adieu.

When God draws a new angel so

That its brightness, familiar before,

Where the face of your angel flashed in,

As He loves to the end. If it seem

FRIENDS of faces unknown and a land

With a single gold curl in the hand

Too costly, though given by herself,

And the children more fit for such joys,

While you

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ask me to ponder and say

God lend ? Where the usurers lent

Into weak womans tears for relief ?

Rent round us, -- while torments reveal

By apocalypse (God being there

Through the house of a man up to His,

He resumes nothing given, -- be sure !

Of that curl, from earths storm and despair,

And Love knows the secret of Grief.

VI.

How you think, staring on at the door,

Or keep, -- as a mother will toys

And finish it up to your dream, --

Shall I spe99lib•netak like a poet, or run

III.

Till the room shall be stiller from noise,

Be more earnest than others are,--speed

That He ever can take back again.

Full in nature) the child is our own,

He gives what He gives. I appeal

The motherhoods advent in power,

And the babe cries ! -- has each of us known

And I feel what it must be and is,

Life of life, love of love, moan of moan,

V.

VII.

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XI.

IV.

You know how one angel smiles there.

Tis to add to it rather, -- amend,

Then weep not. Tis easy for you

For the dark of your sorrow and sin.

Yet my arm s round my own little son,

Out of reach, beyond kiss, in the clay

When the veil of the body we feel

Burns off from you ever the more

That He draws back a gift, comprehend

Oh, children ! -- I never lost one, --

And a rapture of light, you forgo.

Where the violets press nearer than you.

X.

With a mur藏书网mur of music, you miss,

God s generous in giving, say I, --

In His temple, indignant He went

Held up to be looked at by me, --

Have possessed in your house a sweet piece

II.

I.

`God lent him and takes him, you sigh ;

XIII.

-- Nay, there let me break with your pain :

With a cup thrust in Benjamins sack.

And scourged away all those impure.

Through all changes, all times, everywhere.

VIII.

Kept over their heads on the shelf.

To the first loves assurance. To give

XIV.