“The Children”
January 23, 2025
When the lessons and tasks are all ended,
And the school for the day is dismissed,
The little ones gather around me
To bid me “good night,” and be kissed.
Oh, the little white arms that encircle
My neck in their tender embrace;
Oh, the smiles that are halos of heaven,
Shedding sunshine of love on my face.
And when they are gone,
I sit dreaming
Of my childhood—too lovely to last—
Of joy that my heart will remember
While it wakes to the pulse of the past:
Ere the world and its wickedness made me
A partner of sorrow and sin,
When the glory of God was about me,
And the glory of gladness within.
I ask not a life for the dear ones
All radiant, as others have done;
But that life may have just enough shadow
To temper the glare of the sun;
I would pray God to guard them from evil;
But my prayer would bound back to myself:
Ah, a seraph may pray for a sinner,
But a sinner must pray for himself.
I shall leave the old house in the autumn,
To traverse its threshold no more;
Ah! how I shall sigh for the dear ones
That meet me each morn at the door;
I shall miss the “good-nights” and the kisses,
And the gush of their innocent glee;
The group on the green, and the flowers
That are brought every morning for me.
— From The Sixpenny Magazine, 1866
