The Play-Ground
When painfully athwart my brain
Dark thoughts come crowding on,
And, sick of worldly hollowness,
My heart feels sad or lone—
Then out upon the green I walk,
Just ere the close of day,
And swift I ween the sight I view
Clears all my gloom away.
For there I see young children—
The cheeriest thing on earth—
I see them play—I hear their tones
Of loud and reckless mirth.
And many a clear and flute-like laugh
Comes ringing through the air;
And many a roguish, flashing eye,
And rich red cheek, are there.
O, lovely, happy children!
I am with you in my soul;
I shout—I strike the ball with you—
With you I race and roll.—
Methinks white-winged angels,
Floating unseen the while,
Hover around this village green,
And pleasantly they smile.
O, angels! guard these children!
Keep grief and guilt away:
From earthly harm—from evil thoughts
O, shield them night and day!
Dark thoughts come crowding on,
And, sick of worldly hollowness,
My heart feels sad or lone—
Then out upon the green I walk,
Just ere the close of day,
And swift I ween the sight I view
Clears all my gloom away.
For there I see young children—
The cheeriest thing on earth—
I see them play—I hear their tones
Of loud and reckless mirth.
And many a clear and flute-like laugh
Comes ringing through the air;
And many a roguish, flashing eye,
And rich red cheek, are there.
O, lovely, happy children!
I am with you in my soul;
I shout—I strike the ball with you—
With you I race and roll.—
Methinks white-winged angels,
Floating unseen the while,
Hover around this village green,
And pleasantly they smile.
O, angels! guard these children!
Keep grief and guilt away:
From earthly harm—from evil thoughts
O, shield them night and day!
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