Part 2 (1/2)

TO AUDREY, AGED FOUR

Light feet, white feet, dancing down the ways, Spilling out the honey from the flowery days, May your paths forever flowery be and sweet, Stony roads of sorrow wait not for your feet.

Light feet, white feet, as you older grow, Fain are we to keep you from all care and woe; But if thorn and brier in your roadway be, Light feet, white feet, meet them merrily.

Light feet, white feet, as you dance along, G.o.d, Who made you, keep you free from stain of wrong, Give you song and suns.h.i.+ne, laughter, love and praise, Light feet, white feet, dancing down the ways.

A LULLABY

Little brown feet, that have grown so weary, Plodding on through the heat of day, Mother will hold you, mother will fold you Safe to her breast; little feet, rest; Now is the time to cease from play.

Little brown hands, that through day's long hours Never rested, be still at last; Mother will rest you; come, then, and nest you Here by her side, nestle and hide; Creep to her heart and hold it fast.

Little brown head, on my shoulder lying, Night is coming and day is dead; Mother will sing you songs, that shall bring you Childhood's soft sleep, quiet and deep; Sweet be your dreams, O dear brown head.

O LITTLEST HANDS AND DEAREST

O littlest hands and dearest, O golden heads and bright, From out what dear dream country Come you to me to-night?

For through the shadows falling I hear your voices calling Out of the magic s.p.a.ces Of infinite delight.

I see your curls a-glimmer, I see your dear eyes s.h.i.+ne, I feel the childish fingers Slipped softly into mine; You bring me back the May-time, The old, delightful play-time When all the world was laughter And life seemed half divine.

Thus, from the shades that gather Around my path to-night Your glad child-hands have drawn me Back to your lands of light, Giving me for my sadness The medicine of your gladness, O littlest hands and dearest, O golden heads and bright.

A LOVE SONG

Love came to me once more, His wings all drenched with rain; Silent his singing lips, His eyes were dark with pain.

Dead roses in his hands-- Gone were the flowers of yore; Only a poor, grey ghost, Love lingered at my door.

Wasted his rounded limbs And grey his golden hair-- Poor, shadowy, silent G.o.d, Who once had been so fair.

”O Love, great Love,” I cried, ”Why come you thus to me?”

”I am Love's ghost,” he said; ”Men name me Memory.”

A SONG OF LOVE

Love came loitering down the way, (Heart, but we two were young!) Laughter light in his eyes there lay, Music was on his tongue; ”Stay, Love, stay--walk with us, pray!