ALL holy influences dwell within The breast of Childhood: instincts fresh from God Inspire it, ere the heart beneath the rod Of grief hath bled, or caught the plague of sin. How mighty was that fervour which could win Its way to infant souls! -- and was the sod Of Palestine by infant Croises trod? Like Joseph went they forth, or Benjamin, In all their touching beauty to redeem? And did their soft lips kiss the Sepulchre? Alas! the lovely pageant as a dream Faded! They sank not through ignoble fear; They felt not Moslem steel. By mountain, stream, In sands, in fens, they died -- no mother near! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CATARACT OF LODORE by ROBERT SOUTHEY SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 3 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING LIMERICK by ROBERT JONES BURDETTE OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 30 by THOMAS CAMPION THE SINNER OF WAKEFIELD: THE YEOMAN AND PEASANTRY OF OLD ENGLAND by ROBERT GREENE TO THE PRECIOUS MEMORY OF MASTER WILLIAM FENNER by JOHN HALL (1627-1656) |