THE HUMAN SEASONS

FOUR Seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:

He has his Summer, when luxuriously
Spring's honeyed cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high

Is nearest unto Heaven: quiet coves

His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness-to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook:-

He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.

John Keats [1795-1821]

SOMETHING to live for came to the place,

Something to die for maybe,

Something to give even sorrow a grace,
And yet it was only a baby!

Cooing, and laughter, and gurgles, and cries,
Dimples for tenderest kisses,

Chaos of hopes, and of raptures, and sighs,
Chaos of fears and of blisses.

Last year, like all years, the rose and the thorn;
This year a wilderness maybe;

But heaven stooped under the roof on the morn
That it brought them only a baby.

Harriet Prescott Spofford [1835

INFANT JOY

"I HAVE no name;

I am but two days old."

What shall I call thee?

"I happy am,

Joy is my name."

Sweet joy befall thee!

Pretty joy!

Sweet joy, but two days old.

Sweet joy I call thee;

Thou dost smile,

I sing the while;

Sweet joy befall thee!

William Blake [1757-1827]

BABY

From "At the Back of the North Wind "

WHERE did you come from, baby dear?
Out of the everywhere into the here.

Where did you get those eyes so blue?
Out of the sky as I came through.

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?

Some of the starry spikes left in.

Where did you get that little tear?
I found it waiting when I got here.

Strange Lands

What makes your forehead so smooth and high?
A soft hand stroked it as I went by.

What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?
I saw something better than any one knows.

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?
Three angels gave me at once a kiss.

Where did you get this pearly ear?
God spoke, and it came out to hear.

Where did you get those arms and hands?
Love made itself into bonds and bands.

Feet, where did you come, you darling things?
From the same box as the cherubs' wings.

How did they all just come to be you?
God thought about me, and so I grew.

But how did you come to us, you dear?
God thought about you, and so I am here.

George Macdonald [1824-1905]

STRANGE LANDS

WHERE do you come from, Mr. Jay?

"From the land of Play, from the land of Play." And where can that be, Mr. Jay?

"Far away-far away."

Where do you come from, Mrs. Dove?

"From the land of Love, from the land of Love."

And how do you get there, Mrs. Dove?

"Look above-look above."

Where do you come from, Baby Miss?

"From the land of Bliss, from the land of Bliss.” And what is the way there, Baby Miss?

"Mother's kiss-mother's kiss."

Laurence Alma-Tadema [18

5

A RHYME OF ONE

You sleep upon your mother's breast,
Your race begun,

A welcome, long a wished-for Guest,
Whose age is One.

A Baby-Boy, you wonder why
You cannot run;

You try to talk-how hard you try!—
You're only One.

Ere long you won't be such a dunce:
You'll eat your bun,

And fly your kite, like folk who once
Were only One.

You'll rhyme and woo, and fight and joke,
Perhaps you'll pun!

Such feats are never done by folk
Before they're One.

Some day, too, you may have your joy,
And envy none;

Yes, you, yourself, may own a Boy,
Who isn't One.

He'll dance, and laugh, and crow; he'll do
As you have done:

(You crown a happy home, though you
Are only One.)

But when he's grown shall you be here
To share his fun,

And talk of times when he (the Dear!)
Was hardly One?

Dear Child, 'tis your poor lot to be
My little Son;

I'm glad, though I am old, you see,

While

you are One.

Frederick Locker-Lampson [1821-1895]