Of the wide-eyed look of wonder, And the gurgle of baby-glee, As the infant hero wrestles From the smiling father's knee. Sing the delights unbounded Of the home unknown of care, Where wealth as a guest abideth, And want is a stranger there. But O let your voice fall fainter, Till, blent with a minor tone, You temper your song with the beauty Of the pity Christ hath shown: And sing one verse for the voiceless; And yet, ere the song be done, A verse for the ears that hear not, And a verse for the sightless one: And one for the outcast mother, And one for the sin-defiled And hopeless sick man dying, And one for his starving child. For though it be time for singing A merry Christmas glee, Let a low, sweet voice of pathos Run through the melody. SUN AND RAIN All day the sun and rain have been as friends, Each vying with the other which shall be Most generous in dowering earth and sea With their glad wealth, till each, as it descends, Is mingled with the other, where it blends In one warm, glimmering mist that falls on me As once God's smile fell over Galilee. The lily-cup, filled with it, droops and bends Like some white saint beside a sylvan shrine In silent prayer; the roses at my feet, Baptized with it as with a crimson wine, Gleam radiant in grasses grown so sweet, The blossoms lift, with tenderness divine, Their wet eyes heavenward with these of mine. WITH HER FACE With her face between his hands! Was it any wonder she Stood atiptoe tremblingly? As his lips along the strands Of her hair went lavishing Tides of kisses, such as swing Love's arms to like iron bands.-- With her face between his hands! And the hands--the hands that pressed The glad face--Ah! where are they? Folded limp, and laid away Idly over idle breast? He whose kisses drenched her hair, As he caught and held her there, In Love's alien, lost lands, With her face between his hands? Was it long and long ago, When her face was not as now, Dim with tears? nor wan her brow As a winter-night of snow? Nay, anointing still the strands Of her hair, his kisses flow Flood-wise, as she dreaming stands, With her face between his hands. MY NIGHT