Poems (Crandall)/Weaning

by Rosa Neil Crandall

Innocence

Sweet soul—like a blossom adrift—
The plaything of wild wind and wave,
Thou art tossed on a maelstrom of sin,
What power can thy purity save.?

Must we see those mild, loving eyes,
With the flames of passion alight?
Shall that wee, dimpled hand e'er be raised
A brother in anger to smite?

Shall the lips that we so love to kiss
Be foul with tobacco and drink,
And profanity roll from the tongue
Till listeners shiver and shrink?

Great God, who this beautiful soul,
To our care its innocence gave,
Let this little life still be Thine own;
Thy Power—that only, can save.