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I. HAVE you not heard the poets tell | |
| How came the dainty Baby Bell | |
| Into this world of ours? | |
| The gates of heaven were left ajar: | |
| With folded hands and dreamy eyes, | 5 |
| Wandering out of Paradise, | |
| She saw this planet, like a star, | |
| Hung in the glistening depths of even— | |
| Its bridges, running to and fro, | |
| O’er which the white-winged Angels go, | 10 |
| Bearing the holy Dead to heaven. | |
| She touched a bridge of flowers—those feet, | |
| So light they did not bend the bells | |
| Of the celestial asphodels, | |
| They fell like dew upon the flowers: | 15 |
| Then all the air grew strangely sweet. | |
| And thus came dainty Baby Bell | |
| Into this world of ours. | |
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II. She came and brought delicious May; | |
| The swallows built beneath the eaves; | 20 |
| Like sunlight, in and out the leaves | |
| The robins went, the livelong day; | |
| The lily swung its noiseless bell; | |
| And on the porch the trembling vine | |
| Held out its cups of fairy wine. | 25 |
| How tenderly the twilights fell! | |
| O, earth was full of singing-birds | |
| And opening springtide flowers, | |
| When the dainty Baby Bell | |
| Came to this world of ours! | 30 |
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III. O, Baby, dainty Baby Bell, | |
| How fair she grew from day to day! | |
| What woman-nature filled her eyes, | |
| What poetry within them lay— | |
| Those deep and tender twilight eyes, | 35 |
| So full of meaning, pure and bright | |
| As if she yet stood in the light | |
| Of those oped gates of Paradise. | |
| And so we loved her more and more: | |
| Ah, never in our hearts before | 40 |
| Was love so lovely born: | |
| We felt we had a link between | |
| This real world and that unseen— | |
| The land beyond the morn; | |
| And for the love of those dear eyes, | 45 |
| For love of her whom God led forth | |
| (The mother’s being ceased on earth | |
| When Baby came from Paradise)— | |
| For love of Him who smote our lives, | |
| And woke the chords of joy and pain, | 50 |
| We said, Dear Christ!—our hearts bowed down | |
| Like violets after rain. | |
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IV. And now the orchards, which were white | |
| And pink with blossoms when she came, | |
| Were rich in autumn’s mellow prime; | 55 |
| The clustered apples burnt like flame, | |
| The folded chestnut burst its shell, | |
| The grapes hung purpling, range on range; | |
| And time wrought just as rich a change | |
| In little Baby Bell. | 60 |
| Her lissome form more perfect grew, | |
| And in her features we could trace, | |
| In softened curves, her mother’s face. | |
| Her angel-nature ripened too: | |
| We thought her lovely when she came, | 65 |
| But she was holy, saintly now … | |
| Around her pale angelic brow | |
| We saw a slender ring of flame. | |
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V. God’s hand had taken away the seal | |
| That held the portals of her speech; | 70 |
| And oft she said a few strange words | |
| Whose meaning lay beyond our reach. | |
| She never was a child to us, | |
| We never held her being’s key; | |
| We could not teach her holy things | 75 |
| Who was Christ’s self in purity. | |
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VI. It came upon us by degrees, | |
| We saw its shadow ere it fell— | |
| The knowledge that our God had sent | |
| His messenger for Baby Bell. | 80 |
| We shuddered with unlanguaged pain, | |
| And all our hopes were changed to fears, | |
| And all our thoughts ran into tears | |
| Like sunshine into rain. | |
| We cried aloud in our belief, | 85 |
| “O, smite us gently, gently, God! | |
| Teach us to bend and kiss the rod, | |
| And perfect grow through grief.” | |
| Ah, how we loved her, God can tell; | |
| Her heart was folded deep in ours. | 90 |
| Our hearts are broken, Baby Bell! | |
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VII. At last he came, the messenger, | |
| The messenger from unseen lands: | |
| And what did dainty Baby Bell? | |
| She only crossed her little hands, | 95 |
| She only looked more meek and fair! | |
| We parted back her silken hair, | |
| We wove the roses round her brow— | |
| White buds, the summer’s drifted snow— | |
| Wrapt her from head to foot in flowers … | 100 |
| And thus went dainty Baby Bell | |
| Out of this world of ours. | |
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