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 | Poems by Frederick Goddard Tuckerman |  |
208
[X. Thy baby, too, the child that was to be]
Thy baby, too, the child that was to be,Thro' happier days,—a brightening sun above.—
Held to thy heart with more forgetful love,—
So proud a portion of thyself and me:
We talked it o'er,—the bliss that was to bless
The birth, the baby robes, the christening,
And all our hearts were carried in this thing.
Cold, cold she lies where houseless tempests blow;
The baby's face is here, almost a woe;
And I, so seared in soul, so sapped and shrunk,
Gaze hopeless,—careless, in my changed estate
To fall at once, or in the wilderness
Stand like a charred and fire-hardened trunk,
To break the axe's edge of Time and Fate!
| Poems by Frederick Goddard Tuckerman | |