Page:Roden Noel - A Little Child's Monument - 1881.pdf/158

 Behold! they turn to flowers, And settle in his hair. All over him in showers; He hath grown so fair! Christ in him overpowers Dull strength of my despair: While some sweet kindred gathers To one fair face I love: Ye divine it, fathers, Who have a child above! … Lo! an eyelid fluttered; I know the bosom heaved! … Now his own arms have uttered All I disbelieved! Dear eyes, long held in durance, For ever open wide, To yield my soul assurance Of all she hath denied!