UNQUIET Childhood here by special grace Forgets her nature, opening like a flower That neither feeds nor wastes its vital power In painful struggles. Months each other chase, And nought untunes that Infant's voice; no trace Of fretful temper sullies her pure cheek; Prompt, lively, self-sufficing, yet so meek That one enrapt with gazing on her face (Which even the placid innocence of death Could scarcely make more placid, heaven more bright) Might learn to picture, for the eye of faith, The Virgin, as she shone with kindred light; A nursling couched upon her mother's knee, Beneath some shady palm of Galilee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOST SHEEP by SARAH PRATT MCCLAIN GREENE THE THREE FISHERS by CHARLES KINGSLEY I DO NOT LOVE THEE by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON SAPPHO AND PHAON: 2. THE TEMPLE OF CHASTITY by MARY DARBY ROBINSON SONNET: 'EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY' by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE HAPPY LOVER by PHILIP AYRES |