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HIS CHILD.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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65

HIS CHILD.

(A Woman speaks.)

Ah, how may finite language tell
The boundless pain of that farewell!
At last I pleaded, speaking low
Between great sobs, “In mercy go!”
He did not speak, but, stooping now,
Laid one long kiss against my brow!
Then, when a little space had flown,
I stood for evermore alone!
Wounded in spirit, dazed, aghast,
I had no future but my past!
Yet time, that heeds not joys or fears,
Inexorably shaped its years.
But years like weak waves broke above
The changeless granite of my love!
The world, that thought this love was dead,
Praised the sweet woman he had wed!
I heard its praise; I gave no sign;
Yet ah! what agony was mine!

66

Within my life there came a day
When past his home my journey lay.
The lawns flowed wide in grassy seas,
The house was hid with stately trees;
And in the gateway, sweetly fair,
A young child stood, with shining hair.
I paused a moment by the gate. ...
I trembled with a deadly hate!
In this frail child I seemed to see
My own despair confronting me!
Yet while I watched the child, there stole
A lovely change across my soul!
He gazed upon me in surprise;
He thrilled me with his father's eyes!
Then, as I gently drew more near,
He gently smiled, and had no fear.
And now, all feeling unrepressed,
I knelt and caught him to my breast!
And blinded with hot tears, I now
Laid one long kiss against his brow!