 | Gathered in the gloaming |  |
27
Seven.
INSCRIBED TO MISS BEATRICE CRAWHALL.
She was a child of earth—
(Twin throstles hymned her birth),
A little maid of seven.
'Twas in the winter cold,
Death's foot was on the wold;
Death opened wide the door,
With visage fierce and frore,
Where the dying lay unshriven.
(Twin throstles hymned her birth),
A little maid of seven.
'Twas in the winter cold,
Death's foot was on the wold;
Death opened wide the door,
With visage fierce and frore,
Where the dying lay unshriven.
The little maid, in fright,
Fled out into the night—
Fled fleet across the snow.
Ah! which way should she go?
What refuge could she find?
She hurried down the dell,
She crossed the croft as well,
She was met there by the Wind.
And the Wind set up a shout;
Whirling round and round about,
Till he caught the tiny waif—
Caught, and hugged, and held her safe;
Then bore her swift on high,
Eagle-winged, from earth to sky,
Where friend nor foe could find them,
And Death was left behind them.
Fled out into the night—
Fled fleet across the snow.
Ah! which way should she go?
What refuge could she find?
She hurried down the dell,
She crossed the croft as well,
She was met there by the Wind.
And the Wind set up a shout;
Whirling round and round about,
Till he caught the tiny waif—
Caught, and hugged, and held her safe;
28
Eagle-winged, from earth to sky,
Where friend nor foe could find them,
And Death was left behind them.
They traversed the golden bars
Of the comets and trailing stars;
Higher they rose, and higher
Through a tangle of blossom and fire,
Till they came to a castle fine,
All agate and almondine,
With silver lamps on the walls,
And shimmering waterfalls,
That made a musical din.
And there he set her down—
'Twas the gate of God's own town,
And the little maid crept in.
Of the comets and trailing stars;
Higher they rose, and higher
Through a tangle of blossom and fire,
Till they came to a castle fine,
All agate and almondine,
With silver lamps on the walls,
And shimmering waterfalls,
That made a musical din.
And there he set her down—
'Twas the gate of God's own town,
And the little maid crept in.
And so, in the court of the King,
And down His golden street,
Is heard the patter and ring
Of little human feet.
And down His golden street,
Is heard the patter and ring
Of little human feet.
And when the saints rejoice,
And the great archangels sing,
A little human voice
Joins in their musicking.
And the great archangels sing,
A little human voice
Joins in their musicking.
29
God counts them in their going,
The eternal years of heaven;
But for the child, no growing—
She is still a maid of seven.
The eternal years of heaven;
But for the child, no growing—
She is still a maid of seven.
She looks down from the wall,
And sees Death prowling round;
But his shadow cannot fall
On the bright, celestial ground.
And sees Death prowling round;
But his shadow cannot fall
On the bright, celestial ground.
She scours the lilied lea,
At sound of windy weather,
And the old mad Wind and she
Are happy and glad together.
At sound of windy weather,
And the old mad Wind and she
Are happy and glad together.
He takes up his tiny waif,
He ruffles her ruddy hair;
He hugs her and holds her safe,
But, parting, leaves her there.
He ruffles her ruddy hair;
He hugs her and holds her safe,
But, parting, leaves her there.
God counts them in their going—
The eternal years of heaven;
But for the child, no growing,
By a grace of His bestowing,
She is still a maid of seven.
The eternal years of heaven;
But for the child, no growing,
By a grace of His bestowing,
She is still a maid of seven.
| Gathered in the gloaming | |