To K. H.: The Infant Grandchild of a Blind Grandfather

Oh sweet new-comer to the changeful earth !
If, as some darkling seers have boldly guess'd.
Thou hadst a being and a human birth,
And wert erewhile by human parents blest.
Long, long before thy present mother press'd
Thee, helpless stranger, to her fostering breast ;
Then well it is for thee that thou canst not
Remember aught of face, or thing, or spot,
But all thy former life is clean forgot :
For sad it were to visit earth again.
And find it false, and turbulent, and vain ;
So little better than it was of yore,
Yet nothing find that thou hast loved before ;
And restless man in haste to banish thence
The very shadow of old reverence.
But well for us that there is something yet.
Which change cannot efface, nor time forget ; —
The patient smile of passive babyhood ;
The brook-like gurglings, murmuring after meaning :