THE CHILD-SEERS.
95
Human flowers of mould celestial,
Rare mimosas seem they such,
With their lightest tendril trembling
At good spirits' slightest touch.
Rare mimosas seem they such,
With their lightest tendril trembling
At good spirits' slightest touch.
To the poor man's humble dwelling,
And to homes of wealth and care,
Come these beaming forms of beauty,
Like God's angels, unaware.
And to homes of wealth and care,
Come these beaming forms of beauty,
Like God's angels, unaware.
Not found by Scottish burn alone,
On Irish moor, in English glen,
But in all climes are child-seers known
To cast their sacred spell o'er men.
On Irish moor, in English glen,
But in all climes are child-seers known
To cast their sacred spell o'er men.
Links uniting earth to heaven—
Things above with things below—
Of the child-seer's holy mission
This, and this is all we know!
Things above with things below—
Of the child-seer's holy mission
This, and this is all we know!
