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Poem by Dinah Maria Craik To My Godchild Alice ALICE, Alice, little Alice, My new-christened baby Alice, Can there ever rhymes be found To express my wishes for thee In a silvery flowing, worthy Of that silvery sound? Bonnie Alice, Lady Alice, Sure, this sweetest name must be A true omen to thee, Alice, Of a life's long melody. Alice, Alice, little Alice, Mayst thou prove a golden chalice, Filled with holiness like wine: With rich blessings running o'er Yet replenished evermore From a fount divine: Alice, Alice, little Alice, When this future comes to thee, In thy young life's brimming chalice Keep some drops of balm for me! Alice, Alice, little Alice, Mayst thou grow a goodly palace, Fitly framed from roof to floors, Pure unto the inmost centre, While high thoughts like angels enter At the open doors: Alice, Alice, little Alice, When this beauteous sight I see, In thy woman-heart's wide palace Keep one nook of love for me. Alice, Alice, little Alice,-- Sure the verse halts out of malice To the thoughts it feebly bears, And thy name's soft echoes, ranging From quaint rhyme to rhyme, are changing Into silent prayers. God be with thee, little Alice, Of His bounteousness may He Fill the chalice, build the palace, Here, unto eternity! Dinah Maria Craik Dinah Maria Craik's other poems: 1195 Views |
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