Jean Ingelow

Her face betokened all things dear and good, The light of somewhat yet to come was there Asleep, and waiting read more

Her face betokened all things dear and good, The light of somewhat yet to come was there Asleep, and waiting for the opening day, When childish thoughts, like flowers would drift away.

Against her ankles as she trod
The lucky buttercups did nod.

Against her ankles as she trod
The lucky buttercups did nod.

I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered.

I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered.

And old affront will stir the heart
Through years of rankling pain.

And old affront will stir the heart
Through years of rankling pain.

And bitter waxed the fray;
Brother with brother spake no word
When they met in the way.

And bitter waxed the fray;
Brother with brother spake no word
When they met in the way.