 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
57
UNDER HIS WINGS.
Pretty were they, playful kittens
Once, though very soon they fared
Worse than those that lost their mittens—
Creatures for which no one cared;
Yes, alas, their loving mother
Left them, and perhaps she died—
Who can tell?—and now no other
Tenderly about them plied;
Off she went one summer morning,
Hunting after milk or mice—
Off for ever, without warning,
Or a word of good advice.
Once, though very soon they fared
Worse than those that lost their mittens—
Creatures for which no one cared;
Yes, alas, their loving mother
Left them, and perhaps she died—
Who can tell?—and now no other
Tenderly about them plied;
Off she went one summer morning,
Hunting after milk or mice—
Off for ever, without warning,
Or a word of good advice.
Hopeless then they lay, and huddled
Close together from the cold—
Ah, no longer softy cuddled,
In their gentle parent's hold;
Lay, as shades began to darken
Surely round, and wondered why
Straining ears should vainly hearken,
And no purring make reply;
Lay in silence there and trembled,
Sick as hours dragged slowly on,
Faint while ghostly sounds assembled,
Troubled for the guardian gone.
Close together from the cold—
Ah, no longer softy cuddled,
In their gentle parent's hold;
Lay, as shades began to darken
Surely round, and wondered why
Straining ears should vainly hearken,
And no purring make reply;
Lay in silence there and trembled,
Sick as hours dragged slowly on,
Faint while ghostly sounds assembled,
Troubled for the guardian gone.
Then there came a friend, a stranger
Lonely kittens never knew,
Saw the sadness of their danger,
When they hardly dared to mew;
Just a hen, which had no chickens,
Though she felt the mother's heart,
That for helpless babies quickens,
And would play a mother's part;
Came with one desire, to cherish
Pets, that needed warmth and rest—
Pets that but for her might perish—
Took them to her feathered breast.
Lonely kittens never knew,
Saw the sadness of their danger,
When they hardly dared to mew;
Just a hen, which had no chickens,
Though she felt the mother's heart,
That for helpless babies quickens,
And would play a mother's part;
Came with one desire, to cherish
Pets, that needed warmth and rest—
Pets that but for her might perish—
Took them to her feathered breast.
Wonderful her love, but vaster
His who suffered for our woes,
Ministered to us though Master,
Lived for blessing to His foes;
Wonderful her love, but story
Cannot measure his who laid
All aside His robes of glory,
Us to clothe with heavenly aid;
Wonderful her love, but stranger
His, who makes of beggars kings,
Shared our weakness in His manger
Gathers all beneath His wings.
His who suffered for our woes,
Ministered to us though Master,
Lived for blessing to His foes;
Wonderful her love, but story
Cannot measure his who laid
All aside His robes of glory,
Us to clothe with heavenly aid;
Wonderful her love, but stranger
His, who makes of beggars kings,
Shared our weakness in His manger
Gathers all beneath His wings.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |