THE CHILDLESS MOTHER

Oft in midnight visions

Ghostly by my bed

Stands a Father's image,

Pale discrowned head:—

— I forsook thee, Father!

Was no child to thee!

Child-forsaken Mother,

Now‘ tis so with me.

Oft I see the brother,

Baby born to woe,

Crouching by the church-wall

From the bloodhound-foe.

Evil crown'd of evil,

Heritage of strife!

Mine, an heirless sceptre:

His, an exile life!

— O my vanish'd darlings,

From the cradle torn!

Dewdrop lives, that never

Saw their second morn!

Buds that fell untimely,—

Till one blossom grew;

As I watch'd its beauty,

Fading whilst it blew.

Thou wert more to me, Love,

More than words can tell:

All my remnant sunshine

Died in one farewell.

Midnight-mirk before me

Now my life goes by,

For the baby faces

As in vain I cry.

O the little footsteps

On the nursery floor!

Lispings light and laughter

I shall hear no more!

Eyes that gleam'd at waking

Through their silken bars;

Starlike eyes of children,

Now beyond the stars!

Where the murder'd Mary

Waits the rising sign,

They are laid in darkness,

Little lambs of mine.

Only this can comfort:

Safe from earthly harms

Christ the Saviour holds them

In His loving arms:—

Spring eternal round Him,

Roses ever fair:—

Will His mercy set them

All beside me there?

Will their Angels guide me

Through the golden gate?

— Wait a little, children!

Mother, too, must wait!