The prophet :: :: University of Virginia Library

Midnight. A bed-chamber in the Prophet's house. Rhoda seated near a small table, upon which is a shaded lamp; the New Testament in her lap; the child asleep in a crib near her.
RHODA
(Closing the volume.)

It is not there; or else my troubled mind
Fails to detect it. All the precious words,
All, all, I find; that, like a mother's kiss
And healing breath upon her baby's hurt,
Make the poor heart forget its bruise,—all, all!
The sweetness of the Life that loved the world,
So hallowing human love; the promises
That keep a nobler justice still alive
Beneath each wrong; the nearness of the Lord,
As of a wing that covers and defends,—
They shine upon me. Only this unsaid?

178

He must have said it: they forgot to write.
It was so small a thing for Him,—ten words
To help all women,—yea, enough were three!
A single breathing from His lips divine,
And we were saved; for, though he meant so much,
Not thus commanding, men will dare deny!

I saw the text so clearly in my soul,—
Already marked, and laid the open book
On David's desk. He could not help but see,
And then the power within him would be firm,
I prayed, to conquer other counsel. Ah!
What course remains? My tongue deceives my heart;
I speak but foolishness, and vex him more.
But hers makes beautiful a darkened thought,
Makes purity a secret selfishness,
And holy love an evil. Oh, 'tis false!

179

Why, what did he declare me at the first?—
That faith and love are one! Give me a line,
Clear, pointed, piercing, from the armory here,
And I will use it as a sword. I reach,
But they are hung too high, or over-weight
My hand; and I am helpless to contend,
As if the Lord opposed me.
[The child moves restlessly in his sleep.]
You are safe,
My baby, even from the world's reproach,—
Of love begotten, ere its nature strayed.
What waits for you and me? Confusion comes
When that which in the universal heart
Alone is holy finds no reverence.
[The child wakens, and begins to cry. She takes him from the crib, folds him warmly in the bed-clothes, and rocks him upon her breast.]
Hush, darling, hush! If that thy mother's woe
Hath pierced thine innocent, unconscious rest,

180

And wakened thee in witless trouble, hush!
Thou art too young for any thing but joy,
Too dear for shadowed pain; and some old song
Must cheat my sorrow till thou sleep'st again.
[Sings.]

“My baby smiles, at last awake:
The curtains let me draw,
And on my happy bosom take
The child he never saw.

“He'll come to-night: the wind's at rest,
The moon is full and fair;
I wear the dress that pleased him best,
A ribbon in my hair.

“So lately wed, so long away!
But, oh! between is joy:
He left a wife; he'll find to-day
A mother and a boy.

“Be still, my heart! the sound I hear
Is not the step I know;
But hope so perfect turns to fear,
And bliss is nigh to woe.

181

“What voices now delay his tread,
Or plan a sweet surprise?
Come, babe! and we shall wake, instead,
The rapture of his eyes.”

The moonlight, through the open door,
Upon her forehead smiled.
Still feet and frozen heart they bore:
He never saw his child!

[She breaks into a passion of weeping.