 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes |  |
THE BROTHERS.
We had no home, we only had
A shelter for our head:
How poor we were, how scantily
We all were clothed and fed!
But though a wretched little child,
I know not why or how,
I did not feel it half so much
As I can feel it now!
A shelter for our head:
How poor we were, how scantily
We all were clothed and fed!
But though a wretched little child,
I know not why or how,
I did not feel it half so much
As I can feel it now!
When mother sat at night and sewed,
My rest was calm and deep;
I did not know that she was tired,
Or that she needed sleep.
She wrapped the covering round our bed,
In many an ample fold;
She had not half so much herself
To keep her from the cold.
My rest was calm and deep;
I did not know that she was tired,
Or that she needed sleep.
She wrapped the covering round our bed,
In many an ample fold;
She had not half so much herself
To keep her from the cold.
I know it now, I know it all,—
They knew it then above,—
Her life of patient sacrifice,
And never-tiring love.
I know, for then her tasks seemed done,—
We all were grown beside,—
How glad she must have been to go,
After the baby died!
They knew it then above,—
433
And never-tiring love.
I know, for then her tasks seemed done,—
We all were grown beside,—
How glad she must have been to go,
After the baby died!
I do not care to deck me now
With costly robe or gand,—
My mother dressed so plain at home,
And never went abroad.
I do not even want a shroud
Of linen, white and pure,—
They made our little baby one
That was so coarse and poor.
With costly robe or gand,—
My mother dressed so plain at home,
And never went abroad.
I do not even want a shroud
Of linen, white and pure,—
They made our little baby one
That was so coarse and poor.
I had another brother then,
I prayed that God would save;
I knew not life had darker dooms
Than lying in the grave.
I did not know, when o'er the dead
So bitterly I cried,
I 'd live to wish a thousand times
The other, too, had died.
I prayed that God would save;
I knew not life had darker dooms
Than lying in the grave.
I did not know, when o'er the dead
So bitterly I cried,
I 'd live to wish a thousand times
The other, too, had died.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes | |