Page:Poems Blake.djvu/162

Yet whatever time may measure
 Has its part to teach,
When the soul, through pain and pleasure,
 Gathers wealth front each.

So, though all a mother's longing
 Waits with passion fond,
With a thousand wishes thronging
 The dim years beyond,
Still I think from all God's giving
 Naught more blest could fall
Than the golden gift of living,
 Gathering strength from all.

Ah! you scarce see where I'm drifting,
 Filled with vague surprise,
To my face that pure brow lifting,
 And those hazel eyes!
Do not seek to know, my treasure,—
 Wait, in peace divine;
All too soon life's pain and pleasure
 Reach us, baby mine

Could I read the years before thee!
 Would I if I could?
Knowing still God watches o'er thee,
 And that He is good.