The Oxford Book of Canadian Verse
The Little ShoesCharles Sangster (18221893)
H
Upon the dainty feet that wore them;
By day and night our souls’ delight
Is just to dream and ponder o’er them.
We hear them patter on the floor,
In either hand a toy or rattle;
And what speaks to our hearts the more—
Her first sweet words of infant prattle.
The dark-blue eye that flashed so clearly;
The rose-bud lips, the finger-tips
She learned to kiss—oh, far too dearly
The pearly hands turned up to mine,
The tiny arms my neck caressing;
Her smile, that made our life divine,
Her silvery laugh—her kiss, a blessing.
Elysian in their grace so tender,
Through which Love’s child our souls beguiled
For seeming ages starred with splendour:
No wonder that the angel-heirs
Did win our darling life’s-joy from us,
For she was theirs—not all our prayers
Could keep her from the Land of Promise.