 | Romance and revery |  |
88
BIRTH.
“Blood will tell,” says my lord,
Watching his fair brave boy,
Light of his life and joy,
Straight as a reed and tall,
So trusted and so adored.
—And I, how I laugh at it all!
Watching his fair brave boy,
Light of his life and joy,
Straight as a reed and tall,
So trusted and so adored.
—And I, how I laugh at it all!
“Blood will tell,” says my lord,
With pompous pity and fine
For that bad wild son of mine,
To me, the old trusted nurse;
“With a father that died abhorred,
The son has turned out a curse.”
With pompous pity and fine
For that bad wild son of mine,
To me, the old trusted nurse;
“With a father that died abhorred,
The son has turned out a curse.”
“Blood will tell,” has he said?
O my soul! if he only knew
Of the deed I dared to do
These twenty good years ago,
I think he would strike me dead,
He would hate the sight of me so!
O my soul! if he only knew
Of the deed I dared to do
These twenty good years ago,
I think he would strike me dead,
He would hate the sight of me so!
89
“Blood will tell,” would he say,
If he dreamed who bore that boy,
Light of his life and joy,—
Changed on the birth-night? ... Well,
I can keep dumb, any way. ...
Oh, certainly, “blood will tell!”
If he dreamed who bore that boy,
Light of his life and joy,—
Changed on the birth-night? ... Well,
I can keep dumb, any way. ...
Oh, certainly, “blood will tell!”
| Romance and revery | |