XI

As light on a lake's face moving Between a cloud and a cloud Till night reclaim it, reproving The heart that exults too loud,

The heart that watching rejoices When soft it swims into sight Applauded of all the voices And stars of the windy night,

So brief and unsure, but sweeter Than ever a moondawn smiled, Moves, measured of no tune's metre, The song in the soul of a child;

The song that the sweet soul singing Half listens, and hardly hears, Though sweeter than joy-bells ringing And brighter than joy's own tears;

The song that remembrance of pleasure Begins, and forgetfulness ends With a soft swift change in the measure That rings in remembrance of friends

As the moon on the lake's face flashes, So haply may gleam at whiles A dream through the dear deep lashes Whereunder a child's eye smiles,

And the least of us all that love him May take for a moment part With angels around and above him, And I find place in his heart.