Poems (Hazlett-Bevis)/The Look of Glad Surprise

by Sophia Courtoulde Hazlett-Bevis

The Look of Glad Surprise.

There's such a look of glad surprise
In our darling's starry eyes!
I wonder what wee Harold sees,
To give him so much blissful peace?

His little waxen hands lie low,
And whiter than the driven snow,
Upon his silent, pulseless breast—
Our precious baby is at rest.

And yet that silent look of wonder,
With radiant dewdrops lying under
The deep-fringed silken lashes,
A glimpse of heaven's brightness flashes.

Oh, close them not, until the last,
They tell of future joys, and past,
As 'round the sweetest lips there plays
A happy smile of Godly praise.

Our little love is wiser now
Than we. His broad fair brow,
Where cluster softly golden curls,
Wisdom's banner now unfurls.

The mystery for him hath past,
The Father's hand doth hold his fast,
And leads him into kindlier ways
Than ours—forever where He stays.

He showeth him, we know not of,
So filled with beauty and of love,
His starry eyes, in glad surprise,
Behold the wonders of the skies.

An awe upon us slowly steals,
As God His love to him reveals;
We cannot fathom yet his joy,
So stained are we with earth's alloy.

We give him up with far less pain,
Knowing it is his greater gain,
For never eyes could wear such glow
Whom He did not anoint, we know.

Now gently close each dainty lid—
That glimpse of heaven must be hid,
Until we lie, as baby lies,
Safe at home, in glad surprise.