To a Little Child

Dear child, with eyes of heaven's stain
And face like fair flowers blowing,
It fills me with a sense of pain
To see how fast thou'rt growing.

But yesterday heaven's crystal door
Unclosed, and we received thee;
To-morrow thou wilt find how poor
The world. that has deceived thee.

Already with such serious eyes
Thou look'st between thy kisses,
I feel that thou art growing wise,
Too wise for childhood's blisses.

I think of Jesus full of glee
Within the sunlit meadows,
And Mary with sad eyes that see
Far off the Cross's shadows.

And I could almost bow and pray,
" O Lord, if this Thy will is,
Let this sweet child forever play
Amid sweet Nazareth's lilies! "

That thou must leave this happy plain
To life's steep Calvary going,
It fills me with a sense of pain
To see how fast thou'rt growing.