 | English melodies |  |
232
THE WIDOWED MOTHER.
She sat beside the abbey-gate,—
The sun was setting fast;
Its light play'd in her baby's face!
Her own was overcast!
“Oh! smile not here, my baby dear!
Smile not, while I deplore;
And seek relief in tears of grief,
For him who is no more!”
The sun was setting fast;
Its light play'd in her baby's face!
Her own was overcast!
“Oh! smile not here, my baby dear!
Smile not, while I deplore;
And seek relief in tears of grief,
For him who is no more!”
The clouds lay turning to the west
Their gold and crimson rim;
And still—as if the babe they blest—
Threw golden smiles on him!
“Oh! change that brow, my baby now,
Or turn thy gaze from me;
I cannot bear, 'midst all my care,
Thy little smiles to see!
Their gold and crimson rim;
And still—as if the babe they blest—
Threw golden smiles on him!
“Oh! change that brow, my baby now,
Or turn thy gaze from me;
I cannot bear, 'midst all my care,
Thy little smiles to see!
233
“Some pity take for his dear sake,
Who lov'd thee whilst he'd breath;
And told thee this with his last kiss,
And clung to thee in death!”
But still that ray in golden play
Around the baby crept;
And still 'twould smile, though all the while,
The widow'd mother wept!
Who lov'd thee whilst he'd breath;
And told thee this with his last kiss,
And clung to thee in death!”
But still that ray in golden play
Around the baby crept;
And still 'twould smile, though all the while,
The widow'd mother wept!
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