POETRY.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2312, 1 September 1881, Page 4

POETRY.

'THE CHILDBEN LAUGHED AND SANG." It wag in tho ohill December That the Angel of Daath came by, And he rustled his wings of darkness As he swept through the wintry sky : A household of happy creatures Dwelt quiet and free from care. And the angel stole in aoftly, And stood all silent there. (But the children laughed and sang at their play; Nover a fear nor a pang had they.) And the angel swiftly in silence Struck home the mortal blow And in the wintry morning He laid the father low ; And wildly the sorrowful mother, Bewildered and stunned with woo Wailed in her lone bereavement, And wished that she too might go. (But the children laughed und sang at their play; Never a fear nor a pang had they.) Cold in the lonely chamber Lay the father's form at rest; And they laid tho delicate flower wreaths Upon his quiet breast; And forth from his home they bore him, And hide him from sound and sight; And they heaped tho cold earth above him While tho children's feet trod light. (But the boys went home to their happy play ; Nover a fear nor a pang had they.) And often the childish footsteps Are turned to their father's grave Where the graßS with its glistening hoarfrost Lies over that heart so brave ; And sometimes they watch their mother Bending in sorrow and pain ; And they say in their ohildish voices : " Will papa never come again ?" (But soon thoy laugh and sing at their play ; Never a fear nor a pang have they.)

So God in His infinite pity Shuts the eyes of the children dear, And they see not the fell destroyer, Though their eyes are so bright and clear. And I said : " There's no past for the children With its terrible pangs and stings ; And for them no brooding future Spreadeth its threatening wings. And they see in the present—to-day, And so they laugh and sing at their play." —["Chambers' Journal."