rs and sisters
Were hungry and asked me for bread.
At first I earned it for them
By working hard all day,
But somehow, times were bad, sir,
And the work all fell away.

"I could get no more employment.
The weather was bitter cold,
The young ones cried and shivered--
(Little Johnny's but four years old)--
So what was I to do, sir?
I am guilty, but do not condemn.
I _took_--oh, was it _stealing?_--
The bread to give to them."

Every man in the court-room--
Gray-beard and thoughtless youth--
Knew, as he looked upon her,
That the prisoner spake the truth;
Out from their pockets came kerchiefs,
Out from their eyes sprung tears,
And out from their old faded wallets
Treasures hoarded for years.

The judge's face was a study,
The strangest you ever saw,
As he cleared his throat and murmured
_Something_ about the _law_;
For one so learned in such matters,
So wise in dealing with men,
He seemed, on a simple question,
Sorely puzzled, just then.

But no one blamed him or wondered,
When at last these words he heard,
"The sentence of this young prisoner
Is, for the present, deferred."
And no one blamed him or wondered
When he went to her and smiled
And tenderly led from the court-room,
Himself, the "guilty" child.

The Baby

Where did you come from, baby dear?
_Out of the everywhere into the here._

Where did you get your eyes so blue?
_Out of the sky as I came through._

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?
_Some of the starry spikes left in._

Where did you get that little tear?
_I found it waiting when I got here._

What makes your forehead so smooth and high?
_A soft hand stroked it as I went by._

What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?
_Something better than anyone knows._

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?
_Three angels gave me at once a kiss._

Where did you get that pearly ear?
_God spoke, and it came out to hear._

Where did you get those arms and hands?
_Love made itself into hooks and bands._

Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?
_From the same box as the cherubs' wings._

How did they all just come to be you?
_God thought about me, and so I grew._

But how did you come to us, you dear?
_God thought of you, and so I am here._

_George Macdonald._

Song of the Sea

The sea! the sea! the open sea!
The blue, the fresh, the ever free!
Without a mark, without a bound,
It runneth the ea