SIGHT.
Reading edition
I try to make the baby on my knee Look at the sunset; pointing where it glows Beyond the window-pane in tints of rose And violet and gold; when suddenly He dimples with responsive baby-glee, I think how wonderfully well he knows Its beauty; till the changing child-face shows He had not seen the sky, but laughed to see The sparkle of my rings;—O baby dear, This world of lovely gems and sunsets, bright With children’s faces,—is perhaps the near Though lesser glory, dazzling our poor sight, Until we cannot see, for very light, The heaven that shines for us, revealed and clear.
