Category: Poetry
_Freed of its load, washed of its gathered stain, In the child’s spirit life is born again. Of all he sees and loves he is a part: Faith lights his footsteps; filtered through his heart The everlasting fountain-springs o’er-run In rills of joy, and life and he are one._
_Freed of its load, washed of its gathered stain, In the child’s spirit life is born again. Of all he sees and loves he is a part: Faith lights his footsteps; filtered through h...
2. Part 2The child is not the dreamer; but the youth. No dream can lend enchantment to the truth In childhood, and no glamour from afar Can make its paths more wondrous than they are. No...
3. Part 3What of ourselves, who looking on the world Condemn its faithlessness? How weak indeed Must be our own faith if our hope for man Fails because here the march is retrograde And t...
4. Part 4No lesson of the brain can teach the soul That ’twas not born to share A nobler purpose, a sublimer care Than those which end in paths without a goal; No disenchantment turn it...