And bliss, bliss, bliss, it meets the wonder in mid-air and in mid-space it finds the loveliness of the mother's face.

It opens and shuts its little fingers with bliss, it laughs the wonderful, selfless laugh of pure baby-bliss, in the first ecstasy of finding all its treasure, groping upon it and finding it in the dark.

It opens wide, child-wide eyes to see, to see.

But it cannot see.

It is puzzled, it wrinkles its face.
But when the mother puts her face quite near, and laughs and coos, then the baby trembles with an ecstasy of love.