Give me your hand, oh little one! <br /> Like children be we two; <br />Yet I am old, my day is done <br /> That barely breaks for you. <br />A baby-basket hard you hold, <br /> With in it cherries four: <br />You cherish them as men do gold, <br /> And count them o'er. <br /> <br />And then you stumble in your walk; <br /> The cherries scattered lie. <br />You pick them up with foolish talk <br /> And foolish glad am I, <br />When you wipe one quite clean of dust <br /> And give it unto me; <br />So in the baby-basket just <br /> Are three. <br /> <br />All this is simple, I confess, <br /> A moment piled with peace; <br />Yet loving men have died for less, <br /> And will till time shall cease. . . . <br />A silken hand in crinkled one-- <br /> O Little Innocence! <br />O blessed moment in the son <br /> E'er I go hence!<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/two-children-2/
