The Home Book of Verse Volume I Part 6

The gates of heaven were left ajar: With folded hands and dreamy eyes, 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, 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: Then all the air grew strangely sweet.

And thus came dainty Baby Bell Into this world of ours.

II

She came and brought delicious May; The swallows built beneath the eaves; Like sunlight, in and out the leaves The robins went, the livelong day; The lily swung its noiseless bell; And on the porch the slender vine Held out its cups of fairy wine.

How tenderly the twilights fell!

Oh, earth was full of singing-birds And opening springtide flowers, When the dainty Baby Bell Came to this world of ours.

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, 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 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, For love of her whom G.o.d 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, We said, Dear Christ!--our hearts bowed down Like violets after rain.

IV

And now the orchards, which were white And pink with blossoms when she came, Were rich in autumn's mellow prime; The cl.u.s.tered apples burnt like flame, The folded chestnut burst its sh.e.l.l, The grapes hung purpling, range on range; And time wrought just as rich a change In little Baby Bell.

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, But she was holy, saintly now...

Around her pale angelic brow We saw a slender ring of flame.

V

G.o.d's hand had taken away the seal That held the portals of her speech; 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 Who was Christ's self in purity.

VI

It came upon us by degrees, We saw its shadow ere it fell-- The knowledge that our G.o.d had sent His messenger for Baby Bell.

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, "Oh, smite us gently, gently, G.o.d!

Teach us to bend and kiss the rod, And perfect grow through grief."

Ah! how we loved her, G.o.d can tell; Her heart was folded deep in ours.

Our hearts are broken, Baby Bell!

VII

At last he came, the messenger, The messenger from unseen lands: And what did dainty Baby Bell?

She only crossed her little hands, 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-- Wrapped her from head to foot in flowers...

And thus went dainty Baby Bell Out of this world of ours.

Thomas Bailey Aldrich [1837-1907]

IN THE NURSERY

MOTHER GOOSE'S MELODIES

Mistress Mary, quite contrary, How does your garden grow?

With c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.ls, and silver bells, And pretty maids all in a row.

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe, She had so many children she didn't know what to do; She gave them some broth without any bread; Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.

Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater, Had a wife and couldn't keep her; He put her in a pumpkin sh.e.l.l And there he kept her very well.

Run-a-dub-dub, Three men in a tub, And who do you think they be?

The butcher, the baker, The candlestick-maker; Turn 'em out, knaves all three!

I'll tell you a story About Jack a Nory-- And now my story's begun; I'll tell you another About Johnny, his brother-- And now my story is done.

Hickory, d.i.c.kory, dock, The mouse ran up the clock; The clock struck one, The mouse ran down, Hickory, d.i.c.kory, dock.

A dillar, a dollar, A ten o'clock scholar, What makes you come so soon?

You used to come at ten o'clock But now you come at noon.