Chapter VIII
Text size
More than the faith of childhood’s years he had;
He did not doubt the depth of our desire
That he should be perpetually glad,
Nor dream our joy in him could ever tire.
He trusted all the world; the world was kind,
And men and women loving; so he went
To dwell with strangers undismayed in mind,
And smiled, and did not deem it banishment.
In every heart he knew he found a home,
A sanctuary in every human face;
And when God, missing him in heaven, said: Come!
It did not seem a solitary place.
I think he only flushed in sweet surprise
To see the golden floor beneath his eyes.
Comments
Log in to leave a comment.
A little child's wreathChapter VIII
0%1 min left in chapter