| |
| IS there, when the winds are singing | |
| In the happy summer-time,— | |
| When the raptured air is ringing | |
| With Earth’s music heavenward springing, | |
| Forest chirp, and village chime,— | 5 |
| Is there, of the sounds that float | |
| Unsighingly, a single note | |
| Half so sweet and clear and wild | |
| As the laughter of a child? | |
| |
| Listen! and be now delighted: | 10 |
| Morn hath touched her golden strings; | |
| Earth and Sky their vows have plighted; | |
| Life and Light are reunited | |
| Amid countless carollings; | |
| Yet, delicious as they are, | 15 |
| There ’s a sound that ’s sweeter far,— | |
| One that makes the heart rejoice | |
| More than all,—the human voice! | |
| |
| Organ finer, deeper, clearer, | |
| Though it be a stranger’s tone,— | 20 |
| Than the winds or waters dearer, | |
| More enchanting to the hearer, | |
| For it answereth to his own. | |
| But, of all its witching words, | |
| Sweeter than the song of birds, | 25 |
| Those are sweetest, bubbling wild | |
| Through the laughter of a child. | |
| |
| Harmonies from time-touched towers, | |
| Haunted strains from rivulets, | |
| Hum of bees among the flowers, | 30 |
| Rustling leaves, and silver showers,— | |
| These, erelong, the ear forgets; | |
| But in mine there is a sound | |
| Ringing on the whole year round,— | |
| Heart-deep laughter that I heard | 35 |
| Ere my child could speak a word. | |
| |
| Ah! ’t was heard by ear far purer, | |
| Fondlier formed to catch the strain,— | |
| Ear of one whose love is surer,— | |
| Hers, the mother, the endurer | 40 |
| Of the deepest share of pain; | |
| Hers the deepest bliss to treasure | |
| Memories of that cry of pleasure, | |
| Hers to hoard, a lifetime after, | |
| Echoes of that infant laughter. | 45 |
| |
| ’T is a mother’s large affection | |
| Hears with a mysterious sense,— | |
| Breathings that evade detection, | |
| Whisper faint, and fine inflection, | |
| Thrill in her with power intense. | 50 |
| Childhood’s honeyed words untaught | |
| Hiveth she in loving thought,— | |
| Tones that never thence depart; | |
| For she listens—with her heart. | |
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