 | Three hours ; or, the vigil of love : and other poems |  |
11.
She took the flagon to depart,And yet her feet were loath to move;
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But oh! the depth, the might of love!—
It can strengthen or subdue,—
It gave her power her task to do;
“The Saviour guard thee, precious one!”
Was the word to the child, and the mother is gone.
She drew the door with close, firm grasp,
Fastening its latch with a curious clasp,
A clasp that closed like a padlock true,
And she and one other could only undo.
| Three hours ; or, the vigil of love : and other poems | |