A Clasp of Hands
i
Soft, small, and sweet as sunniest flowers
That bask in heavenly heat
When bud by bud breaks, breathes, and cowers,
Soft, small, and sweet,
Soft, small, and sweet as sunniest flowers
That bask in heavenly heat
When bud by bud breaks, breathes, and cowers,
Soft, small, and sweet,
A babe’s hands open as to greet
The tender touch of ours
And mock with motion faint and fleet
The tender touch of ours
And mock with motion faint and fleet
The minutes of the new strange hours
That earth, not heaven, must mete;
Buds fragrant still from heaven’s own bowers,
Soft, small, and sweet.
That earth, not heaven, must mete;
Buds fragrant still from heaven’s own bowers,
Soft, small, and sweet.
ii
A velvet vice with springs of steel
That fasten in a trice
And clench the fingers fast that feel
A velvet vice—
A velvet vice with springs of steel
That fasten in a trice
And clench the fingers fast that feel
A velvet vice—
What man would risk the danger twice,
Nor quake from head to heel?
Whom would not one such test suffice?
Nor quake from head to heel?
Whom would not one such test suffice?
Well may we tremble as we kneel
In sight of Paradise,
If both a babe’s closed fists conceal
A velvet vice.
In sight of Paradise,
If both a babe’s closed fists conceal
A velvet vice.
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