There was a child, bright as the summer prime,
Fair as a flower. Not long his speaking eyes
Had uttered meaning: nature's love not long
Had stolen into his heart. One sweet May morn
His young life dawned: so that the Summer heats
Unconscious passed he through; the Autumn fruits
Just gladdened him with bloom; the sparkling frost
Awoke his greeting smile: but when the Spring
Broke out upon the earth, lighting with stars
Of floral radiance all the level green,
Then was his joy a living laughing thing;
He held the coloured buds; their beauty fed
His eager longing; up to those he loved
He held them in the fulness of his joy,
And laughter, eloquent of inward bliss.

Dear child,--for thou wert ours,--this and the like,
A few sweet visions of thine infant smiles,
A few bright hours of purity and calm,
Are all of thee that we remember now:
For in the sunshine of that rising Spring,
When lavish bloom was poured on all around,
Thy cheek alone grew pale: day after day
Thou fadest from our sight: yet even thus,
Long as thine eyes could gaze, thy fingers clasp,
Brought we our tribute due of gleaming buds,
Glad, if we might one moment wake anew
Thy dormant thought, and light thine eyes with joy.