 | The Outcast, and other poems |  |
161
THE BLIND GIRL
TO HER MOTHER.
Mother, they say the stars are bright,And the broad Heavens are blue—
I dream of them by day and night,
And think them all like you.
I cannot touch the distant skies,
The stars ne'er speak to me—
Yet their sweet images arise,
And blend with thoughts of thee.
I know not why, but oft I dream,
Of the far land of bliss;
And when I hear thy voice, I deem,
That Heaven is like to this.
When my sad heart to thine is pressed,
My follies all forgiven,
Sweet pleasure warms my beating breast,
And this I say is Heaven.
O mother, will the God above,
Forgive my faults like thee?
162
On a blind thing like me?
Dear mother, leave me not alone!
Go with me, when I die—
Lead thy blind daughter to the throne,
And stay in yonder sky!
| The Outcast, and other poems | |