 | Poems of house and home |  |
72
NOONING AT THE HALF-WAY HOUSE.
A BIRTHDAY.
Here at the Half-way House, a one-hour's guest,I see far back, in yon bright valley deep,
A tender mother rock her child asleep
In the warm cradle of her happy breast;
And, forward, where the path I go must lead—
Downward how far I cannot guess nor know—
In thick, blind mist, a house secure, but low,
Where I shall rest to-night, and shall not heed
The fierce, sharp tempest on the beaten wold
Nor the close darkness. ... I will journey on
73
In trust that when the anxious day is gone,
My sleep shall be the same—how soft and mild!—
As, on my mother's breast, yon new-born child.
| Poems of house and home | |