A Reed by the River/Children

by Virginia Woodward Cloud

CHILDREN

We are but children, with a work and playtime,A little hour for laughter and for tears,A little clinging to the waning daytime,A little yielding unto futile fears

We are but children, filling Time's great measure,Breaking a toy to weep when it is done;Forth from morn's meadows do we reap of pleasureLittle to bear hence at set of sun.

We are but children, weary with pursuing,Building awhile beside the Bar of Pain;—Lord, in life's dusk, forget Thou all misdoing,And gather us unto Thy heart again!