'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | ||
BABY FEET.
Hark, amid the oaths, what is it
Dropt like music from the skies,
Dearest of the sounds that visit
Earth with all its bitter cries?
Up and down, in drunken clatter,
To and fro, with horrors pent,
Tiny steps, that pace and patter
Through a world of wonderment;
Oh, across the strife infernal,
Swelling in reproaches sweet,
Echoing on as if eternal,
Chimes the fall of baby feet.
Dropt like music from the skies,
Dearest of the sounds that visit
Earth with all its bitter cries?
Up and down, in drunken clatter,
To and fro, with horrors pent,
Tiny steps, that pace and patter
Through a world of wonderment;
Oh, across the strife infernal,
Swelling in reproaches sweet,
Echoing on as if eternal,
Chimes the fall of baby feet.
High and lo, they lightly wander,
As from dusty ground to gain
Joy, or in the sunbeam yonder
Shivering through the shattered pane;
Here and there, and not contented,
When the ghostly day has done
Mocking pretty wiles invented,
Seeking rest and finding none;
Oh, while human lives are spilling,
Where extremes of evil meet,
Through the tumult, softly thrilling,
Chimes the fall of baby feet.
As from dusty ground to gain
Joy, or in the sunbeam yonder
Shivering through the shattered pane;
Here and there, and not contented,
When the ghostly day has done
Mocking pretty wiles invented,
Seeking rest and finding none;
Oh, while human lives are spilling,
Where extremes of evil meet,
Through the tumult, softly thrilling,
Chimes the fall of baby feet.
On and back, in aimless vision
Flashed by love on orgies curst,
Always stopt in stern derision
By the bounds they cannot burst;
Round and round, in weary struggles
Still the prison bars to bend,
Buoyed by hope that only juggles,
Travelling darkly to the end;
Oh, if breasts are false, and blighting
Dogs each step with tempest fleet,
Yet, above the blasts of fighting,
Chimes the fall of baby feet,
Flashed by love on orgies curst,
Always stopt in stern derision
By the bounds they cannot burst;
Round and round, in weary struggles
Still the prison bars to bend,
Buoyed by hope that only juggles,
Travelling darkly to the end;
Oh, if breasts are false, and blighting
Dogs each step with tempest fleet,
Yet, above the blasts of fighting,
Chimes the fall of baby feet,
In and out, so cold and naked,
Totter they along the road,
Sadly weak and rudely wakèd
Now, beneath the hourly load;
Leaving her that is no mother
Thankful thus the time to save,
Glad to have a home and other
Greater comforts in the grave;
Oh, if death the tie should sever,
Wrapping them in burial sheet,
Echoing on and on for ever
Chimes the fall of baby feet.
Totter they along the road,
Sadly weak and rudely wakèd
Now, beneath the hourly load;
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Thankful thus the time to save,
Glad to have a home and other
Greater comforts in the grave;
Oh, if death the tie should sever,
Wrapping them in burial sheet,
Echoing on and on for ever
Chimes the fall of baby feet.
'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | ||