Between the curtains of snowy lace,
    Over the way is a baby's face;
It peeps forth, smiling in merry glee,
    And waves its pink little hand at me.

My heart responds with a lonely cry---
    But in the wonderful By-and-By---
Out from the window of God's "To Be,"
    That other baby shall beckon to me.

That ever-haunting and longed-for face,
    That perfect vision of infant grace,
Shall shine on me in a splendour of light,
    Never to fade from my eager sight.

All that was taken shall be made good;
    All that puzzles me understood;
And the wee white hand that I lost, one day,
    Shall lead me into the Better Way.