THE SLEEPING CHILD.

Hastings Standard, Volume XIII, Issue 4310, 13 November 1909, Page 4 (Supplement)

THE SLEEPING CHILD.

He sleeps—O night .touch not his infant dreams With any visions save of angels white Which guard his rest, so far away lie seems From earth, so near to heaven. From all afriglit Guard thou his tender dreams.

He sleeps—O day, mar not his waking hour With any ill, so blissfully he lies In utter trust frail as a folded flower The dawn has cradled under vernal skies; Mar not his waking hour.

For all too soon the years with eager haste Will tear aside the veil which folds him now In purity, and sorrow's crown be placed Where now, in aureole, his peaceful brow With, innocence is graced.

Stand back, ye powers of the world awhile, The gifts of after-time can never bring Again the lovely wonder of that smile, Nor any charm to such sweet slumbering His spirit reconcile.

He sleeps and 10, methinks, with all tlie bliss Of love's most dear possession, heaven were best W herein to waken from such calm as this, And on his baby lips most meet were pressed An angel's kiss!

et —if his feet be set to scale the height Through danger, foes and tempest, ere the goal At last be won 10, crowned with manhood's fight Unto the rest that waits —may liis fair soul Go, child-like, as to-night. —Edith Jenkinson.