@3MO páistin deas,@1 I did not know How cold the winter's blast could blow Into her heart, with what despair Earth drew her bloom and blossom fair, How lone a man might come and go When you were here—how could I know? How could I know, my little child? When gracious summer looked and smiled, Soft was the sleeping roses' breath Who did not know or dream of death. Like him who stood in glad surprise At love discovered in your eyes, That fleeting time so slow could pass I did not know, @3mo páistïn deas.@1 My pretty child, I did not know How I had watched you come and go, How I had listened for your song, How short your shy caress, how long Your absence was, till praying I Looked up to heaven with a cry To call you back, there saw a star And knew how far God's gardens are. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: SAILORS' [OR MARINERS'] SONG by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES ADVICE TO A LADY [IN AUTUMN] by PHILIP DORMER STANHOPE AUTHOR TO HIS CHILD by FRANCES AIRTH ACT 5 (MIDNIGHT) by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 10 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT ON A SWEARING COXCOMB by ROBERT BURNS |