O Miscellaneous Poems. DEDICATION. To you, my Children, I inscribe these lays, With pen unfaltering: not as one that claims The privilege of shining as a point Of light amongst the constellated quires But glowing rather like a household lamp And when in wood and field we three have walked, How have I loved your blithe companionship! A blessed consolation in distress. Yet must the pearls of fantasy be strung Through evil and through good. Beloved twain, PROLUSIO. Na gray pony of Norwegian race, Propped by his parent's all-sustaining hand, A fair-haired boy sits lightly as a bird: A graceful fawn, whose dark and lovesome eye Serenely glitters in the morning sun, Is gently pacing at the pony's side, His friend and comrade both in stall and field. A Landseer's hand, addressed to picture forth |