William Edward Marshall (1859–1923)

O joy! that in our embers
Is something that doth live,
That nature yet remembers
*****
Delight and liberty, the simple creed
Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest.
Wordsworth, Ode. Intimations of Immortality.

IT seems but yesterday, that I, a boy,

Made life a play;

But yesterday, my little cup of joy

Was full alway.

But ah, ’twas long ago!

—That yesterday of joy and play—

And yet, it may be so,

That part of my eternity

Is playtime’s yesterday in me.

And yesterday it seems, I, ere I laid

Me down to sleep,

In simple faith clasped childish hands, and prayed

The Lord to keep

My soul. But ’tis not so!

—The grave of yesterday is deep—

And yet I feel and know,

That part of my eternity

Is that same faith and prayer in me.

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