Page:Roden Noel - A Little Child's Monument - 1881.pdf/30



possessions, populous lands The monarch doth inherit, And lordlier kingdoms he commands, Fair realms within the spirit. The monarch had a little son, A child of five years old, The loveliest earth ere looked upon And he is lying cold. The king is in the olive grove, A hind sings in the tree; Below, the infant of his love Is babbling merrily. The father beats the boughs, and while Dark oval olives fly, The boy, with many a laugh and smile, Pursues them far and nigh. Blue sea between the grey-green leaves Twinkles, and the sun Through them a playful chequer weaves Over the little one.