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Show CHILDREN. Ciime to me, O ye cliilJren, ",r I hear you at your play, And the queslio'-s that pfrp:exed me Have v&sii ed rig .t away. Yo opon the cntnrn windows, Thut look towards the sun, AY here thonght-s aro eiuinsr swallows, And tho b.-ooka of morLing run. In your hearts are tho birds and tho eun-shine, eun-shine, In your thoughts Ihn brooklcU flow, Hut in mine is tho wind uf autumn, And tho tir;t full of the snow. Ah! what would tho world be to us If ih? ehiUIron were no more? YV sliould dread th i do-crt bi;hind U3 Worie than the dark biilora. Wliit the leaves aro t' the foroat, With light and air f t fooJ, Ere ll.eir sweet and tender juices Have been hardened into wood. That to tho world aro children; TUr-'ueh them it feels the glow ! Of a brighter and sunnier climate Than reaches tho trunks below Como to mo, O yo children! And whUper in my ear What tho birds and the winds are s'mg- In your sunny atmosphere. For what are all our contrivings And tho wisdom of our bo iks When compared with your carouses And tho gladnoes of your looks? Y'e arc bettor than all tho ballads That ever wero sung or said, For yo nre living poomp, And all the rest are dead. Longfellow. |