Passion Flowers (Watson)/Of Such is the Kingdom
Of Such Is the Kingdom.
He wandered out, but not beyond the call
Of angels, watching at the little gate,
From which on either side the path leads straight,
For baby feet, so tender and so small,
To earth, and up to Mary, mother mild,
Who with a love, compassionate, divine,
Keeps every little one whom we resign,
In joyous durance, an immortal child.
He had but touched the tiny roseate feet
To earth, one moment thrilled to eager arms,
But faintly caught the sound of life's alarms,
When came a call he knew, resistless, sweet.
One gift of earth he bore to that fair place—
It was the memory of his mother's face.
Of angels, watching at the little gate,
From which on either side the path leads straight,
For baby feet, so tender and so small,
To earth, and up to Mary, mother mild,
Who with a love, compassionate, divine,
Keeps every little one whom we resign,
In joyous durance, an immortal child.
He had but touched the tiny roseate feet
To earth, one moment thrilled to eager arms,
But faintly caught the sound of life's alarms,
When came a call he knew, resistless, sweet.
One gift of earth he bore to that fair place—
It was the memory of his mother's face.