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Show . LITTLE CHILDREN. Do you love me, little children? O sweet blossoms that are curled (Life's tender morning glories) 'Round the casement of the world! Do your hearts climb tljp toward me, As my own heart bepds to you. In tho beauty of your dawning And the brightness of your dew? When the fragrance of your faces And the rhythm of your feet, And tho incense of your voices Transform the sullen street. Do you see my soul move softly Forever where you move, With an eye of benediction And a guarding hand of love? O my darlings! I am with you In your trouble, in your play, In your sobbing and your singing, In your dark and in your day, In the chambers where you nestle, In the hovels where you blossom, And the blackness where you die. . Not a blessing broods above you. But it lifts me from the ground; Not a thistle-barb doth sting you, But I suffer with the wound; And a chord within me trembles To your lightest touch or tone, And I famish when you hunger, And I shiver when you moan. I have trodden all the spaces Of my solemn years alone. And have never felt the cooing Of a babe's breath near my own. But with more than father passion, And with more than mother pain, I have loved you, little children: Do you love me back again! |