Read it through once

It was a smile—yet not of human years; A thing half infant and half thing divine; 'Twas not of joy, for in that smile were tears, And not of grief, for in that smile was shine: And while it touch'd his lip, the heaven-born child Look'd round him with a dim, bewilder'd eye; And, as its own first breaths of being glided wild, It whisper'd,—Can I live, and yet not fly?