POETRY.

Western Star, Issue 347, 1 May 1880, Page 7

POETRY.

THE CHILDREN. (Poem found in the desk of Charles Dickens after his death.) When the lessons and tasks are all ended, And the school for the day is dismissed. And the little ones gather around me ' To bid me “ good night and be kissed, O the little white arms that encircle My neck in a tender embrace ! 0 the smilet! that are halos of heaven, Shedding Sunshine and love on my face! And when they are gone, I sit dreaming Of my childhood, too lovely too last, Of love that my heart will remember When it wakes to the pulse of the past, Ere the world and its wickedness made mo A partner of sorrow and sin When the glory of Hod wpb about me, And the glory of gladness within, O my heart grows "freak as a woman’s, Aiid the fountain of feeling wiU Sow, When I think of the paths, steep and stony, ~ Where the feet of the dear must go ; Of tlih mountains of sin hanging o’er them, ... 'Qf the tempests of fate blowing wild— O there’s nothing on earth half so holy As the innocent heart of a child. They ore idols of hearts and of households, They are angels of Hod in disguise— His sunlight still sleeps in their tresses, His glory still beams in their eyes — 0 those truants irom earth and from heaven. They have made me more manly and mild, And I know who Jesus would liken The kingdom of Hod to a child Seek-not a life for the dear ones All radiant, as others have done, But that life may have just as much shadow To temper the glare of the sun. 1 would pray Hod to guard them from evil, But my prayer would bound back to myself; Ah ! a seraph may pray for a sinter, But a sinner must pray for himself. The twig is to easily bended, I have banished the rule and the rod ; I have taught them the goodness of knowledge. They have taught me the goodness of Hod. My heart is a dungeon of darkness, Where shut them from breaking a rule j My frown is sufficient correction, My love is the law of the school. I shall leave the old house in the Autumn, To traverse its threshold no more : Ah ! how shall I sigh for the dear ones That meet me each morn at the door, I shall miss the nights ’’end the kisses And the gush of their innocent glee; The group on the green, and the flowers That are brought every morning to me. X shall miss them at morn and at eve, Their song in the school and the street; 1 shall miss the low hum of their voices, And the tramp of their delicate feet. When the lessons and tasks are all ended, And death says the school is dismissed, May the little ones gather around me, And bid me “ good-night ” and be kissed.