A Baby's feet, like sea-shells pink, <br /> Might tempt, should heaven see meet, <br />An angel's lips to kiss, we think, <br /> A baby's feet. <br /> <br />Like rose-hued sea-flowers toward the heat <br /> They stretch and spread and wink <br />Their ten soft buds that part and meet. <br /> <br />No flower-bells that expand and shrink <br /> Gleam half so heavenly sweet <br />As shine on life's untrodden brink <br /> A baby's feet. <br /> <br />II. <br /> <br />A baby's hands, like rosebuds furled <br /> Whence yet no leaf expands, <br />Ope if you touch, though close upcurled, <br /> A baby's hands. <br /> <br />Then, fast as warriors grip their brands <br /> When battle's bolt is hurled, <br />They close, clenched hard like tightening bands. <br /> <br />No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled <br /> Match, even in loveliest lands, <br />The sweetest flowers in all the world - <br /> A baby's hands. <br /> <br />III. <br /> <br />A baby's eyes, ere speech begin, <br /> Ere lips learn words or sighs, <br />Bless all things bright enough to win <br /> A baby's eyes. <br /> <br />Love, while the sweet thing laughs and lies, <br /> And sleep flows out and in, <br />Sees perfect in them Paradise. <br /> <br />Their glance might cast out pain and sin, <br /> Their speech make dumb the wise, <br />By mute glad godhead felt within <br /> A baby's eyes.<br /><br />Algernon Charles Swinburne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/etude-realiste/
