Stories that might be true With other poems: By Dora Greenwell |
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THE LITTLE GIRL'S LAMENT. |
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 | Stories that might be true |  |
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THE LITTLE GIRL'S LAMENT.
Is Heaven a long way off, Mother,
I watch through all the day,
To see my Father coming back
And meet him on the way.
I watch through all the day,
To see my Father coming back
And meet him on the way.
And when the night comes on, I stand
Where once I used to wait,
To see him coming from the fields
And meet him at the gate;
Where once I used to wait,
To see him coming from the fields
And meet him at the gate;
Then I used to put my hand in his,
And cared not more to play;
But I never meet him coming now,
However long I stay.
And cared not more to play;
But I never meet him coming now,
However long I stay.
And you tell me he's in Heaven, and far
Far happier than we;
And loves us still the same—but how
Dear Mother, can that be?
Far happier than we;
And loves us still the same—but how
Dear Mother, can that be?
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For he never left us for a day
To market or to fair,
But the best of all that Father saw,
He brought for us to share.
To market or to fair,
But the best of all that Father saw,
He brought for us to share.
He cared for nothing then but us—
I have heard Father say,
That coming back made worth his while
Sometimes to go away;
I have heard Father say,
That coming back made worth his while
Sometimes to go away;
He used to say he liked our house
Far better than the Hall;
He would not change it for the best,
The grandest place of all:
Far better than the Hall;
He would not change it for the best,
The grandest place of all:
And if where he is now, Mother,
All is so good and fair,
He would have come back long ago,
To take us with him there.
All is so good and fair,
He would have come back long ago,
To take us with him there.
He never would be missed from Heaven:
I have heard Father say
How many angels God has there,
To praise Him night and day;
I have heard Father say
How many angels God has there,
To praise Him night and day;
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He never would be missed in Heaven,
From all that blessed throng;
And we—oh! we have missed him here,
So sadly and so long!
From all that blessed throng;
And we—oh! we have missed him here,
So sadly and so long!
But if he came to fetch us, then
I would hold his hand so fast,
I would not let it go again
Till all the way was past;
I would hold his hand so fast,
I would not let it go again
Till all the way was past;
He'd tell me all that he has seen,
But I would never say,
How dull and lonely we have been,
Since he went far away.
But I would never say,
How dull and lonely we have been,
Since he went far away.
When you raised me to the bed, Mother,
And I kissed him on the cheek,
His cheek was pale and very cold,
And his voice was low and weak.
And I kissed him on the cheek,
His cheek was pale and very cold,
And his voice was low and weak.
And yet I can remember well
Each word that he spoke then,
For he said I must be a dear, good girl,
And we should meet again!
Each word that he spoke then,
For he said I must be a dear, good girl,
And we should meet again!
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And oh! but I have tried since then
To be good through all the day;
I have done whatever you bid me, Mother,
Yet Father stays away!
To be good through all the day;
I have done whatever you bid me, Mother,
Yet Father stays away!
Is it because God loves him so?—
I know that in his love
He takes the good away from earth,
To live with him above!
I know that in his love
He takes the good away from earth,
To live with him above!
Oh! that God had not loved him so!
For then he might have staid,
And kissed me as he used at nights,
When by his knee I played;
For then he might have staid,
And kissed me as he used at nights,
When by his knee I played;
Oh! that he had not been so good,
So patient, or so kind!
Oh! had but we been more like him,
And not been left behind!
So patient, or so kind!
Oh! had but we been more like him,
And not been left behind!
| Stories that might be true | |