 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
“UNTO ME.”
Late, late one evening to my door
A little child drew near,
His face was pale, his raiment poor,
He staggered on the cottage floor,
As though in mortal fear;
His mien was innocent and mild,
He seemed a lonely orphan child,
To no one dear.
A little child drew near,
His face was pale, his raiment poor,
He staggered on the cottage floor,
As though in mortal fear;
His mien was innocent and mild,
He seemed a lonely orphan child,
To no one dear.
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No word he uttered, but his look
Was full of sorrow grave,
As if he could no longer brook
The cruel breasts, that thus forsook
The sufferer they might save;
And still no anger formed a part
Within that warm and gentle heart,
Which all forgave.
Was full of sorrow grave,
As if he could no longer brook
The cruel breasts, that thus forsook
The sufferer they might save;
And still no anger formed a part
Within that warm and gentle heart,
Which all forgave.
I opened wide to him my arms,
And took him to my breast;
I gathered all his childish charms,
Far from the faintest breath of harms,
Safe in that home of rest.
I said, Thou shalt abide with me
For ever, and for ever be
My heart's own guest.
And took him to my breast;
I gathered all his childish charms,
Far from the faintest breath of harms,
Safe in that home of rest.
I said, Thou shalt abide with me
For ever, and for ever be
My heart's own guest.
And then he spake in accents low,—
“Yes, I have wandered far,
With footsteps weak from pain and slow,
Seeking for love's bright beacon glow,
To find the prison bar;
In every house each eye seemed blind
To my distress, nor could I find
One door ajar.”
“Yes, I have wandered far,
With footsteps weak from pain and slow,
Seeking for love's bright beacon glow,
To find the prison bar;
In every house each eye seemed blind
To my distress, nor could I find
One door ajar.”
And as he told his bitter lot,
In sorrow free from hate,
A sudden glory, seemed to blot
Out with its light whatever spot
Upon his garment sate;
A wondrous change his features shook,
And as he rose his movements took
A heavenly state.
In sorrow free from hate,
A sudden glory, seemed to blot
Out with its light whatever spot
Upon his garment sate;
A wondrous change his features shook,
And as he rose his movements took
A heavenly state.
Strange light the room began to fill,
Which mortal scarce could see;
And solemn words that sent a thrill,
Fell from those blessed lips, that still
More beauteous seemed to be;—
“Love rendered to the humblest one,
In humblest acts, is kindness done
Even unto Me.”
Which mortal scarce could see;
And solemn words that sent a thrill,
Fell from those blessed lips, that still
More beauteous seemed to be;—
“Love rendered to the humblest one,
In humblest acts, is kindness done
Even unto Me.”
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |