page 47

Little Things

God must have smiled to Himself
When He made the hearts of men
And filled them with love of such little things,
Seen once, and remembered again.

The little, eternal things,
A pansy, wet with dew,
The green spring mist in the willows,
A puddle, small and blue.

The damp little hands of the rain,
Filled with the smell of gorse;
The smooth, sinewy, silken steel
Of a young, proud horse.

The tangled hair of the wind,
One fallen scarlet leaf.
How many little, lovely things
Softly comfort grief.

The speed of a bird's shadow,
Violets, sweet and blue,
The memory of saffron sunsets,
Gashed with kingfisher blue.

A square of sky and stars,
Blue flames in the fire,
A girl's laugh, like a spring wind,
They comfort vain desire.

God must have felt the quiet,
When no bird sings,
So He made men's hearts big enough
To love little things.

J. F.