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Weighed upon his baby spirit； Showed him soon life's sternest page； Grim
Want was his nurse； and Sorrow Was his only heritage。
〃All too weak for childish pastimes； Drearily the hours sped； On his
hands so small and trembling Leaning his poor aching head； Or； through
dark and painful hours； Lying sleepless on his bed。
〃Dreaming strange and longing fancies Of cool forests far away； And
of rosy； happy children； Laughing merrily at play； Coming home through
green lanes； bearing Trailing boughs of blooming May。
〃Scarce a glimpse of azure heaven Gleamed above that narrow street；
And the sultry air of Summer （That you call so warm and sweet） Fevered
the poor Orphan； dwelling In the crowded alley's heat。
〃One bright day； with feeble footsteps Slowly forth he tried to crawl；
Through the crowded city's pathways； Till he reached a garden…wall；
Where 'mid princely halls and mansions Stood the lordliest of all。
〃There were trees with giant branches； Velvet glades where shadows
hide； There were sparkling fountains glancing； Flowers； which in luxuriant
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pride Even wafted breaths of perfume To the child who stood outside。
〃He against the gate of iron Pressed his wan and wistful face； Gazing
with an awe…struck pleasure At the glories of the place； Never had his
brightest day…dream Shone with half such wondrous grace。
〃You were playing in that garden； Throwing blossoms in the air；
Laughing when the petals floated Downwards on your golden hair； And
the fond eyes watching o'er you； And the splendour spread before you；
Told a House's Hope was there。
〃When your servants； tired of seeing Such a face of want and woe；
Turning to the ragged Orphan； Gave him coin； and bade him go； Down his
cheeks so thin and wasted； Bitter tears began to flow。
〃But that look of childish sorrow On your tender child…heart fell； And
you plucked the reddest roses From the tree you loved so well； Passed
them through the stern cold grating； Gently bidding him 'Farewell！'
〃Dazzled by the fragrant treasure And the gentle voice he heard； In the
poor forlorn boy's spirit； Joy； the sleeping Seraph； stirred； In his hand he
took the flowers； In his heart the loving word。
〃So he crept to his poor garret； Poor no more； but rich and bright； For
the holy dreams of childhood … Love； and Rest； and Hope； and Light …
Floated round the Orphan's pillow Through the starry summer night。
〃Day dawned； yet the visions lasted； All too weak to rise he lay； Did
he dream that none spake harshly … All were strangely kind that day？
Surely then his treasured roses Must have charmed all ills away。
〃And he smiled； though they were fading； One by one their leaves
were shed； 'Such bright things could never perish； They would bloom
again；' he said。 When the next day's sun had risen Child and flowers both
were dead。
〃Know； dear little one！ our Father Will no gentle deed disdain； Love
on the cold earth beginning Lives divine in Heaven again； While the angel
hearts that beat there Still all tender thoughts retain。〃
So the angel ceased； and gently O'er his little burthen leant； While the
child gazed from the shining； Loving eyes that o'er him bent； To the
blooming roses by him； Wondering what that mystery meant。
Thus the radiant angel answered； And with tender meaning smiled：
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〃Ere your childlike； loving spirit； Sin and the hard world defiled； God has
given me leave to seek you … I was once that little child！〃
* * *
In the churchyard of that city Rose a tomb of marble rare； Decked； as
soon as Spring awakened； With her buds and blossoms fair … And a humble
grave beside it … No one knew who rested there。
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VERSE： ECHOES
Still the angel stars are shining； Still the rippling waters flow； But the
angel…voice is silent That I heard so long ago。 Hark！ the echoes murmur
low； Long ago！
Still the wood is dim and lonely； Still the plashing fountains play； But
the past and all its beauty； Whither has it fled away？ Hark！ the mournful
echoes say； Fled away！
Still the bird of night complaineth； （Now； indeed； her song is pain；）
Visions of my happy hours； Do I call and call in vain？ Hark！ the echoes
cry again； All in vain！
Cease； oh echoes； mournful echoes！ Once I loved your voices well；
Now my heart is sick and weary … Days of old； a long farewell！ Hark！ the
echoes sad and dreary Cry farewell； farewell！
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VERSE： A FALSE GENIUS
I see a Spirit by thy side； Purple…winged and eagle…eyed； Looking like
a Heavenly guide。
Though he seem so bright and fair； Ere thou trust his proffered care；
Pause a little； and beware！
If he bid thee dwell apart； Tending some ideal smart In a sick and
coward heart；
In self…worship wrapped alone； Dreaming thy poor griefs are grown
More than other men have known；
Dwelling in some cloudy sphere； Though God's work is waiting here；
And God deigneth to be near；
If his torch's crimson glare Show thee evil everywhere； Tainting all the
wholesome air；
While with strange distorted choice； Still disdaining to rejoice； Thou
WILT hear a wailing voice；
If a simple； humble heart； Seem to thee a meaner part； Than thy
noblest aim and art；
If he bid thee bow before Crowned Mind and nothing more； The great
idol men adore；
And with starry veil enfold Sin； the trailing serpent old； Till his scales
shine out like gold；
Though his words seem true and wise； Soul； I say to theeArise。 He is
a Demon in disguise！
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VERSE： MY PICTURE
Stand this waymore near the window … By my deskyou see the light
Falling on my picture better … Thus I see it while I write！
Who the head may be I know not； But it has a student air； With a look
half sad； half stately； Grave sweet eyes and flowing hair。
Little care I who the painter； How obscure a name he bore； Nor； when
some have named Velasquez； Did I value it the more。
As it is； I would not give it For the rarest piece of art； It has dwelt with
me； and listened To the secrets of my heart。
Many a time； when to my garret； Weary； I returned at night； It has
seemed to look a welcome That has made my poor room bright。
Many a time； when ill and sleepless； I have watched the quivering
gleam Of my lamp upon that picture； Till it faded in my dream。
When dark days have come； and friendship Worthless seemed； and life
in vain； That bright friendly smile has sent me Boldly to my task again。
Sometimes when hard need has pressed me To bow down where I
despise； I have read stern words of counsel In those sad reproachful eyes。
Nothing that my brain imagined； Or my weary hand has wrought； But
it watched the dim Idea Spring forth into armed Thought。
It has smiled on my successes； Raised me when my hopes were low；
And by turns has looked upon me With all the loving eyes I know。
Do you wonder that my picture Has become so like a friend？ … It has
seen my life's beginnings； It shall stay and cheer the end！
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VERSE： JUDGE NOT
Judge not； the workings of his brain And of his heart thou canst not see；
What looks to thy dim eyes a stain； In God's pure light may only be A scar；
brought from some well…won field； Where