 | Poems And Songs |  |
153
BENJAMIN'S DREAM.
'Twas midnight—the stars through the cloud-hills of June
Glowered cantily out on the calm queenly moon,
And far in the north, over mountain and lawn,
The grey patient gloaming hung waiting the dawn;
While the dewdrops, fast gathering on flowerets and trees,
A rich morning banquet prepared for the bees.
Glowered cantily out on the calm queenly moon,
And far in the north, over mountain and lawn,
The grey patient gloaming hung waiting the dawn;
While the dewdrops, fast gathering on flowerets and trees,
A rich morning banquet prepared for the bees.
Sore wearied with troubles and toils of the day,
Asleep by his bosom-friend, Benjamin lay;
Her dreams—if she dreamed—left no furrow, no trace,
Of sorrow or pleasure upon her fair face;
But Benjamin lay with a fixed, fearful look,
And still, like the breeze-troubled willow-leaf, shook:
Asleep by his bosom-friend, Benjamin lay;
Her dreams—if she dreamed—left no furrow, no trace,
Of sorrow or pleasure upon her fair face;
But Benjamin lay with a fixed, fearful look,
And still, like the breeze-troubled willow-leaf, shook:
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For lo! in the dim light, the house stalking through,
With soft noiseless tread, was a form he well knew;
Not, as last he beheld her, in garb of the grave,
With cheek and with brow pale as foam on the wave;
But there, in the vigour and fresh flush of life,
In bedgown and petticoat, stalked his first wife.
With soft noiseless tread, was a form he well knew;
Not, as last he beheld her, in garb of the grave,
With cheek and with brow pale as foam on the wave;
But there, in the vigour and fresh flush of life,
In bedgown and petticoat, stalked his first wife.
He saw her examine, with motherly care,
Her three children's clothing, so duddy and bare;
Her sweet earnest patience poor Benjie could see,
As rag after rag she spread out on her knee;
And pearls from her eyes still by Pity were prest,
And sorrow arose still in sighs from her breast.
Her three children's clothing, so duddy and bare;
Her sweet earnest patience poor Benjie could see,
As rag after rag she spread out on her knee;
And pearls from her eyes still by Pity were prest,
And sorrow arose still in sighs from her breast.
Then close to the hearth-stone the table she brought,
And all o'er the house her own tea-things she sought;
Of bread for each bairn she prepared a good share,
And near the warm hearth for each bairn placed a chair;
And then one by one, with the silence of thought,
Out from their hard pallet her little ones brought.
And all o'er the house her own tea-things she sought;
Of bread for each bairn she prepared a good share,
And near the warm hearth for each bairn placed a chair;
And then one by one, with the silence of thought,
Out from their hard pallet her little ones brought.
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He saw her, with smiles such as angels might wear,
Observed her thin hands to the dainties draw near;
But soon the sweet smile yielded place to a frown,
And soon o'er her cheeks mortal tears trickled down,
As each with a greedy haste took all its share,
And held out its hand, pleading, “Mither, some mair.”
Observed her thin hands to the dainties draw near;
But soon the sweet smile yielded place to a frown,
And soon o'er her cheeks mortal tears trickled down,
As each with a greedy haste took all its share,
And held out its hand, pleading, “Mither, some mair.”
When seated at length in their scanty attire,
She drew all their chairs closer still to the fire;
She set back the table with matronly care,
And a bath for the children began to prepare;
Soon their faces she washed, combed and shaded their hair,
And long scrubbed their feet, unco “hackit” and “sair.”
She drew all their chairs closer still to the fire;
She set back the table with matronly care,
And a bath for the children began to prepare;
Soon their faces she washed, combed and shaded their hair,
And long scrubbed their feet, unco “hackit” and “sair.”
Clean bedclothes she took, and so gently them spread
O'er the purified forms, softly laid on the bed;
Her lips, parting slowly, seemed breathing a prayer;
Her eyes, looking upward, seemed asking His care.
And then, with a lingering gaze, turning away,
She came to the bedside, where Benjamin lay.
O'er the purified forms, softly laid on the bed;
Her lips, parting slowly, seemed breathing a prayer;
Her eyes, looking upward, seemed asking His care.
And then, with a lingering gaze, turning away,
She came to the bedside, where Benjamin lay.
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Contempt seemed with pity to blend in her look,
As, shrinking in terror, poor Benjamin shook;
And pointing to where she her children had laid,
“Art thou not their father?” she solemnly said.
And while from his sight gliding slowly she seemed,
Poor Benjamin wakened, and found he had dreamed.
As, shrinking in terror, poor Benjamin shook;
And pointing to where she her children had laid,
“Art thou not their father?” she solemnly said.
And while from his sight gliding slowly she seemed,
Poor Benjamin wakened, and found he had dreamed.
The neighbours observed how the children improved,
As things that were cared for—as things that were loved;
And soon where the tear-trace so often had been,
The roses of health and joy's dimples were seen:
They guessed at the reason, but vainly they guessed—
The reason lay hidden in Benjamin's breast.
As things that were cared for—as things that were loved;
And soon where the tear-trace so often had been,
The roses of health and joy's dimples were seen:
They guessed at the reason, but vainly they guessed—
The reason lay hidden in Benjamin's breast.
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