..
That night I took these troubles to my breast,
And played that you and I, my own, were wed;
Those troubles were our child, with eyes of fear,--
A wailing babe, whom I, his mother dear,
Must soothe to quiet rest and calm relief,
And urge his eyes to sleeping by and by.
"O hush," I said, and wept to see such grief;
"Hush, hush, your father must not hear you cry."
_DREAM OF DEATH_
In sleep my idle thoughts were sadly led
By wild dark ways: it strangely seemed that I
Must join the number of the silent dead,
And with my young and fearful heart must die.
But ah, what drew my bitter moans and sighs,
And pierced my sleeping spirit, was that she
Who with the saddest tears would close these eyes
And with maternal passion mourn for me,
She on some pleasure-errand stayed away.
Ah, bitter, bitter thought! Ah, lonely death
To seek me in the night! And not till day
Had come and soothed my fear, and calmed my breath,
And in the sun my new life I could kiss,
And look with prayer and hope to future years,
Did I discern God's mercy still in this--
That I was spared the anguish of her tears.
* * * * *
RUTH TEMPLE LINDSAY
_MATER SALVATORIS_
Ah, wilt thou turn aside and see
The little Child on Mary's knee?
Enter the stable bleak and cold,
Grope through the straw and myrrh and gold;
Seek in the darkness near and far--
Lift up the lantern and the Star.
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