April 20

Unless ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.

SO docile was my dear, so wise to know And love the tender rule he should obey,— So childly tractable, withal so slow To childish wrath, so clean from passion's sway,

The momentary doubt would sometimes rise If in the patient child reposed the will The man would need, the force, the enterprise To face the strife, to grapple with the ill.

I know not, but I know that manhood's crown Was ever meekness, since the children's friend Rode humbly royal through the palm-strewn town Unto a stern retributory end.

I see foreshadow'd in that seven-years' span The fulness of the stature of a man.

ELIZA- BETH RACHEL CHAPMAN

WHOM THE GODS LOVE