O LITTLEST HANDS AND DEAREST

O littlest hands and dearest, O golden heads and bright, From out what dear dream country Come you to me to-night? For through the shadows falling I hear your voices calling Out of the magic spaces Of infinite delight.

I see your curls a-glimmer, I see your dear eyes shine, I feel the childish fingers Slipped softly into mine; You bring me back the May-time, The old, delightful play-time When all the world was laughter And life seemed half divine.

Thus, from the shades that gather Around my path to-night Your glad child-hands have drawn me Back to your lands of light, Giving me for my sadness The medicine of your gladness, O littlest hands and dearest, O golden heads and bright,