To a Child

— Tacet —

Dance there upon the shore;
What need have you to care
For wind or water's roar?
And tumble out your hair
That the salt drops have wet;
Being young you have not known
The fool's triumph, nor yet
Love lost as soon as won,
Nor the best labourer dead
And all the sheaves to bind.
What need have you to dread
The monstrous crying of wind?

— Tacet —

The angels are singing, above your bed;
They weary of trooping with the whimpering dead.
God's laughing in heaven to see you so good;
The Sailing Seven are gay with His mood.
I sigh that kiss you, for I must own
That I shall miss you when you have gone.

— Tacet —

Has no one said those daring
Kind eyes should be more learn'd?
Or warned you how despairing
The moths are when they are burned,
I could have warned you, but you are young,
So we speak a different tongue.
  
O you will take whatever's offered
And dream that all the world's a friend,
Suffer as your mother suffered,
Be as broken in the end.
But I am old and you are young,
And I speak a different tongue.

— Tacet —

A pity beyond all telling
Is hid in the heart of love:
The folks who are buying and selling,
The clouds on their journey above,
The cold, wet winds ever blowing,
And the shadowy hazel grove
Where mouse-grey waters are flowing
Threaten the head that I love.

— Tacet —