WE children played in a queer old street That persistently seemed to hide,
Itself and us in a kindly way
From the great wide world outside.
And how we loved in our childishness
God’s work on the sea and land.
But death was secretive, dark and deep,
And never showed us his hand.
With awe we gazed on his work, sad work
And the flutter of ribbons white,
Made us all catch hands, hold our breath and sob
In our restless dreams at night.
When a baby came to our queer o............