  I had a little daughter, And she was given to me To lead me gently backward To the Heavenly Father's knee, 5That I, by the force of nature, Might in some dim wise divine The depth of his infinite patience To this wayward soul of mine. I know not how others saw her, 10But to me she was wholly fair, And the light of the heaven she came from Still lingered and gleamed in her hair; For it was as wavy and golden, And as many changes took, 15As the shadows of sun-gilt ripples On the yellow bed of a brook. To what can I liken her smiling Upon me, her kneeling lover? 20And dimpled her wholly over, Till her outstretched hands smiled also, And I almost seemed to see The very heart of her mother Sending sun through her veins to me! 25She had been with us scarce a twelve-month, And it hardly seemed a day, When a troop of wandering angels Stole my little daughter away; Or perhaps those heavenly Zingari 30But loosed the hampering strings, And when they had opened her cage-door, My little bird used her wings. But they left in her stead a changeling, A little angel child, 35That seems like her bud in full blossom, And smiles as she never smiled: When I wake in the morning, I see it Where she always used to lie, And I feel as weak as a violet As weak, yet as trustful also; For the whole year long I see All the wonders of faithful Nature Still worked for the love of me; 45Winds wander, and dews drip earthward, Rain falls, suns rise and set, Earth whirls, and all but to prosper A poor little violet. This child is not mine as the first was, 50I cannot sing it to rest, I cannot lift it up fatherly And bliss it upon my breast; Yet it lies in my little one's cradle And sits in my little one's chair, 55And the light of the heaven she's gone to Transfigures its golden hair. |
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