Page:A channel passage and other poems (IA channelpassageot00swinrich).pdf/46

 Yet in ours the tears unshed, Child, for hope that death leaves dead, Needs must burn and tremble; thou Knowest not, seest not, why nor how, More than we know whence or why Comes on babes that laugh and lie Half asleep, in sweet-lipped scorn, Light of smiles outlightening morn, Whence enkindled as is earth By the dawn's less radiant birth All the body soft and sweet Smiles on us from face to feet When the rose-red hands would fain Reach the rose-red feet in vain. Eyes and hands that worship thee Watch and tend, adore and see All these heavenly sights, and give Thanks to see and love and live. Yet, of all that hold thee dear, Sweet, the dearest smiles not here.