Like strands of light dropped from the sun,
And mingled there in golden grace!
Oh, tell him not the moments run
Through life's frail fingers in swift chase!
"Let him sleep, let him sleep!"
There cometh a "day when light is pain,
When he will lean his head away,
And sunward hold his palm, to gain
A respite from the glare of day;
For no fiond lip will smile, and say,
"Let him sleep, let him sleep!"
Hush! hush! wake not the child!
Just now a light shone from within,
And through his lips an angel smiled,
Too fresh from heaven for grief to win;
Oh, children are God's undented,
Too fresh from heaven to dream of sin!
"Let him sleep, let him sleep!"
The volume, which contains a score or more of short poems, reveals poetic ideas as well as poetic language; and when you find both in the same selection you are pleased with it and feel like lingering on certain choice passages so as to drink in the full meaning; and, frequently, the reader yields to the inclination to read the entire poem again and again. The authoress exhibits many indications of growth, so that later, we may expect another and a greater volume from her pen.
