 | Cuckoo songs |  |
98
A Young Mother
(Frances Wynne)
O little mother, gone so far,
Fresh from your baptism of pain;
Its dews upon your forehead were
Within your heart its happy gain.
Fresh from your baptism of pain;
Its dews upon your forehead were
Within your heart its happy gain.
So far that none could track your feet.
Though one should weep, and yearn, and pray,
You would not turn a moment, Sweet,
Back from your high celestial way.
Though one should weep, and yearn, and pray,
You would not turn a moment, Sweet,
Back from your high celestial way.
If I might tell you how I loved,
And hold you once so close and fast,
And prove you all my love unproved,
Alack, the happy time is past!
And hold you once so close and fast,
And prove you all my love unproved,
Alack, the happy time is past!
99
Over is over, dead is dead!
I did not see you while I could,
Ten days ago I might have said
Words to bring pleasure in a flood
I did not see you while I could,
Ten days ago I might have said
Words to bring pleasure in a flood
Staining your dear brown cheeks. O fret,
O trouble, that I did not come
And speak and kiss you long, ere yet
The darkness beckoned, cold and dumb.
O trouble, that I did not come
And speak and kiss you long, ere yet
The darkness beckoned, cold and dumb.
But vain the tears. Dear lamb, that lies
So safe in the Good Shepherd's arms,
Lifting to him your trustful eyes,
Undimmed by sorrow or alarms.
So safe in the Good Shepherd's arms,
Lifting to him your trustful eyes,
Undimmed by sorrow or alarms.
Home from all danger and all fear
He bears His lamb in dusk and dew;
You to that Shepherd are as dear
As your own lambkin was to you.
He bears His lamb in dusk and dew;
You to that Shepherd are as dear
As your own lambkin was to you.
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