Selected Poetry

Cromwell Argus, Volume 2, Issue 96, 12 September 1871, Page 3

Selected Poetry

MEASURING THE BABY. We measured, the riotous baby Against the cottage wall ; A lily grew at the threshold, And the hoy' was just as tall ! A royal tiger lily, With spots of purple and gold, And a heart like a jewelled chalice, The fragrant dew to hold. Without, the blackbirds whistled High up in the old root trees ; And to and fro at the window The red rose rocked her bees. And the wee pink lists of the baby Were never a moment still, Snatching at the shine and shadow That danced on the lattice-sill! His eyes were as wide as blue-bells— His mouth like a Rower unblown ; Two little bare feet, like funny’- white mice, Reaped out from his snowy gown, And we thought with a thrill of rapture That yet had a touch of pain, When June rolls round with her roses, We’ll measure the hoy again. Ah, me ! in a darkened chamber, With the sunshine shut away, Thiough tears that fall like a bitter rain, We measure the boy to-day ; And the little white feet that were dimpled And sweet as the budding rose, Lay side by side together, In the hush of a long repose 1 Up from the dainty pillow. White as the risen dawn, Tae fair little face Jay smiling, With heaven's light o'er it drawn ; And the dear little hands, like rose-k-avea Dropped from a rose, lay still, Never to snatch at the sunshine 'ihit crept to the shrouded sill. We measured the sleeping baby, With ribbons white as snow. For the shining rosewood casket That waited for him below ; And out of the darkened chamber We went with a childless moan ; To the height of the sinless angels Our little one had grown !