Well, let us imagine Swinburne confronted by the miracle of childhood. Knowing that his reputation must stand or fall by this attempt, he endeavors to record all the splendid emotions and noble comparisons which childhood suggests to him. And what is the result? What is the climax of thought in his poem? The climax is this: Swinburne says that the baby about whom he is writing, who happens to be wearing a plush cap, looks like a moss rose bud in its soft sheath. This is a pleasant idea. Undoubtedly it pleased the baby's mother and the baby herself when she grew up. But these are scarcely the words that shall tremble on the lips of time. Francis Thompson was great enough to do the obvious thing. When he was drawing inspiration from the miracle of childhood, he did not think about plush caps and moss roses. Instead, he did the most natural and the most beautiful thing. He thought about the Infant Jesus. Childhood to him suggested Him Who made childhood Divine. And in "Ex Ore Infantium" he gave that thought immortal expression. But in comparing the plush cap of the baby to a moss rose, Swinburne did not think he had said the last word on the subject. As the result of prolonged meditation on childhood, he produced another poem in which he really did accomplish something remarkable. He found a rhyme for "babe." Now, I doubt if any of you know the rhyme for "babe," unless you happen to be familiar with this poem of Swinburne's or with those of Chaucer, who also used this word. There is such a word and Swinburne ingeniously introduces it towards the end of his poem. He writes: Babe, if rhyme be none For that small sweet word, Babe, the sweetest one Ever heard, Right it is and sweet Rhyme should not keep true Time with such a sweet Thing as you ... ... None can tell in metre Fit for ears on earth What sweet star grew sweeter At your birth. Wisdom doubts what may be; Hope with smile sublime Trusts, but neither, baby Knows the rhyme. Wisdom lies down lonely; Hope keeps watch from far; None but one seer only Sees the star. Love alone, with yearning Heart for astrolabe Takes the star's height, burning O'er the babe. Compare this, not with Francis Thompson's "Hound of Heaven," but with another poem on childhood, and from that poem decide which of the two poets had the real inspiration. Compare it with Francis Thompson's poem to his god-child. In this he imagines himself as having died, and he imagines that the little boy has died too. So he gives the little boy a kind of working plan of Heaven--he tells him where he may find him after he goes to Heaven. He writes: