From the Land of Dreams By John Todhunter. With an introduction by T. W. Rolleston |
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THE CHILDREN'S WARD |
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 | From the Land of Dreams |  |
57
THE CHILDREN'S WARD
'Tis the Good Shepherd's fold, his holy ground:
With genial face, between a smile and tear,
Old Father Christmas, bustling on his round,
With presents for the children has been here.
With genial face, between a smile and tear,
Old Father Christmas, bustling on his round,
With presents for the children has been here.
The Children's Ward: there, in her little cot,
Her wasted face wise with long suffering,
A little patient girl, a hectic spot
Branding each cheek, her soul upon the wing.
Her wasted face wise with long suffering,
A little patient girl, a hectic spot
Branding each cheek, her soul upon the wing.
Poor tiny child! A grave motherly light
Veils now her glittering eyes. In mother's pride
Clasped to her bosom, lovingly and tight,
With one thin arm, her doll sleeps at her side.
Veils now her glittering eyes. In mother's pride
Clasped to her bosom, lovingly and tight,
With one thin arm, her doll sleeps at her side.
All sickness now, all pain, all weariness
Are lost in love. The dumb thing at her breast
Comforts her hungry heart: in that caress
Her suffering finds relief, her longing, rest.
Are lost in love. The dumb thing at her breast
Comforts her hungry heart: in that caress
Her suffering finds relief, her longing, rest.
| From the Land of Dreams | |