Sonnet XIV on A Noble Child, Early Dead
Farewell to thee, thou swift--departed Stranger,
Weary with little stay,--farewell to thee!
There hung a picture in thy nursery
Of the God--boy, who slumbered in the manger,--
And oft I feared, lest Thou should'st meet the danger,
For pride of wealth or lusted empiry,
Of losing that which I so loved to see,
Thy likeness to that picture, lovely Stranger.
Thou hast gone back all pure,--thy every feature
Faithful to what the limner's sacred eye
Pourtrayed the Son of God; most blessed creature!
Thy brow unknit by passion, pain, or scorn,
Thine is the special privilege to have borne
The Cross of Love without the Agony.
poem by Richard Monckton Milnes Houghton
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