Poems (Curwen)/My Little Lad
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My Little Lad.
My little lad has silken hair—
Finer silk has ne'er been spun
Than that which fringes his forehead fair—
Gold gleaming in the sun.
Finer silk has ne'er been spun
Than that which fringes his forehead fair—
Gold gleaming in the sun.
My little lad has sparkling eyes—
Sparkling eyes of azure hue—
Ne'er were summer's sunny skies
More clear or brightly blue.
Sparkling eyes of azure hue—
Ne'er were summer's sunny skies
More clear or brightly blue.
My little lad has tiny ears,
Each a little pearly shell;
And rounded cheeks, so soft and fair,
Where roguish dimples dwell.
Each a little pearly shell;
And rounded cheeks, so soft and fair,
Where roguish dimples dwell.
My little lad has smiling lips,
Dewy and pink as a rose,
Which babble wondrous stories in
A language nobody knows.
Dewy and pink as a rose,
Which babble wondrous stories in
A language nobody knows.
My little lad has lovely limbs,
Rounded, dimpled, fair to see;
Dear wee feet that must grow and grow,
Ere they step beyond my knee.
Rounded, dimpled, fair to see;
Dear wee feet that must grow and grow,
Ere they step beyond my knee.
My little lad has something more—
A heart that's undefiled.
What is there on earth so pure
As the soul of a young child?
A heart that's undefiled.
What is there on earth so pure
As the soul of a young child?
Ah, my wee lad and your wee lad,
Are the precious leaven
Which lightens care and heaviness—
Raising our hearts to heaven.
Are the precious leaven
Which lightens care and heaviness—
Raising our hearts to heaven.