Do you hear the children weeping and disproving,
O my brothers, what ye preach?
Do you hear the children weeping and disproving,
O my brothers, what ye preach?
Do you hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years
Children use the fist Until they are of the age to use the brain.
I sit beneath thy looks, as children do
In the noon-sun, with souls that tremble through
Their happy eyelids from an unaverred
Yet prodigal inward joy.
For oh," say the children, "we are weary,
And we cannot run or leap;
If we cared for any meadows, it were merely
To drop down in them and sleep.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories