A Childs Laughter

All the bells of heaven may ring,     All the birds of heaven may sing,     All the wells on earth may spring,     All the winds on earth may bring     All sweet sounds together;     Sweeter far than all things heard,     Hand of harper, tone of bird,     Sound of woods at sundawn stirred,     Welling waters winsome word,     Wind in warm wan weather,     One thing yet there is, that none     Hearing ere its chime be done     Knows not well the sweetest one     Heard of man beneath the sun,     Hoped in heaven hereafter;     Soft and strong and loud and light,     Very sound of very light     Heard from mornings rosiest height,     When the soul of all delight     Fills a childs clear laughter.     Golden bells of welcome rolled     Never forth such notes, nor told     Hours so blithe in tones so bold,     As the radiant mouth of gold     Here that rings forth heaven.     If the golden-crested wren     Were a nightingale, why, then,     Something seen and heard of men     Might be half as sweet as when     Laughs a child of seven.