by Walter de la Mare
I heard a little child beneath the stars
Talk as he ran along
To some sweet riddle in his mind that seemed
A-tiptoe into song.
In his dark eyes lay a wild universe,–
Wild forests, peaks, and crests;
Angels and fairies, giants, wolves and he
Were that world’s only guests.
Elsewhere was home and mother, his warm bed:–
Now, only God alone
Could, armed with all His power and wisdom, make
Earths richer than his own.
O Man! — thy dreams, thy passions, hopes, desires!–
He in his pity keep
A homely bed where love may lull a child’s
Fond Universe asleep!