Little Goldenhair

Mrs. F. Burge Smith (1826–1900)

GOLDENHAIR climbed up on grandpapa’s knee;

Dear little Goldenhair! tired was she,

All the day busy as busy could be.

Up in the morning as soon as ’t was light,

Out with the birds and butterflies bright,

Skipping about till the coming of night.

Grandpapa toyed with the curls on her head.

“What has my baby been doing,” he said,

“Since she arose, with the sun, from her bed?”

“Pitty much,” answered the sweet little one;

“I cannot tell so much things I have done,—

Played with my dolly and feeded my Bun.

“And I have jumped with my little jump-rope,

And I made out of some water and soap

Bufitle worlds! mamma’s castles of Hope.

“And I have readed in my picture-book,

And little Bella and I went to look

For some smooth stones by the side of the brook.

“Then I comed home and I eated my tea,

And I climbed up to my grandpapa’s knee.

I jest as tired as tired can be.”

Lower and lower the little head pressed,

Until it drooped upon grandpapa’s breast;

Dear little Goldenhair! sweet be thy rest!

We are but children; the things that we do

Are as sports of a babe to the Infinite view

That sees all our weakness, and pities it too.

God grant that when night overshadows our way,

And we shall be called to account for our day,

He shall find us as guileless as Goldenhair’s play!

And O, when aweary, may we be so blest

As to sink like the innocent child to our rest,

And feel ourselves clasped to the Infinite breast!