On the grass sat Two-years-old: Through the leaves a spot of gold Danced upon her small dark head, Two-years-old was very still; Only to herself she said In the way that children will, Something in a chanting round, Fascinated by the sound. Curiously I strained my ears; Then I could not see for tears, What the baby said was this, Making of the words a play, @3"He is dead, my father is, Dead and gone away; He is dead, my father is, Dead and gone away."@1 |