 | [My child! My child!, in] The Mayflower for MDCCCXLVII |  |
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MY CHILD! MY CHILD!
Like sunshine playing on a sheltered path,
Or far-off singing, or the scent
Of hidden violets by a trampled way,
The baby came—and went.
Or far-off singing, or the scent
Of hidden violets by a trampled way,
The baby came—and went.
And all who saw it here on earth,
Whene'er they shut their eyes,
Can see it still, with finger pointing
Forever to the skies.
Whene'er they shut their eyes,
Can see it still, with finger pointing
Forever to the skies.
At midnight, by the empty crib
The Mother kneels and weeps,
In darkness and alone she prays,
Thinking the Father sleeps;
The Mother kneels and weeps,
In darkness and alone she prays,
Thinking the Father sleeps;
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While the loving Father, if he hears,
At noonday, in the whirl of life,
Aught to remind him of the babe
Trembles with inward strife;
At noonday, in the whirl of life,
Aught to remind him of the babe
Trembles with inward strife;
Crushing the slowly-gathered tear,
With voice that soundeth cheerfully;
Then gazing on the poor pale wife
So fearfully!
With voice that soundeth cheerfully;
Then gazing on the poor pale wife
So fearfully!
Portland, Maine.
| [My child! My child!, in] The Mayflower for MDCCCXLVII | |