Richard Watson Gilder

Oh, father's gone to market-town, he was up before the day,
And Jamie's after robins, and the man is read more

Oh, father's gone to market-town, he was up before the day,
And Jamie's after robins, and the man is making hay,
And whistling down the hollow goes the boy that minds the mill,
While mother from the kitchen door is calling with a will,
"Polly!--Polly!--The cows are in the corn!
Oh, where's Polly?"

I am the laughter of the new-born child
On whose soft-breathing sleep an angel smiled.

I am the laughter of the new-born child
On whose soft-breathing sleep an angel smiled.

The smile of her I love is like the dawn
Whose touch makes Menmon sing:
O see read more

The smile of her I love is like the dawn
Whose touch makes Menmon sing:
O see where wide the golden sunlight flows--
The barren desert blossoms as the rose!

Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That read more

Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That we no more our verse would scrawl,
For Shakespeare he had said it all!

Against the darkness outer
God's light his likeness takes,
And he from the mighty doubter
read more

Against the darkness outer
God's light his likeness takes,
And he from the mighty doubter
The great believer makes.