The Mother

LAST night he lay within my arm,

So small, so warm — a mystery

To which God only held the key —

But mine to keep from fear and harm!

Ah! He was all my own, last night,

With soft, persuasive, baby eyes,

So wondering and yet so wise,

And hands that held my finger tight.

Why was it that he could not stay —

Too rare a gift? Yet who could hold

A treasure with securer hold

Than I, to whom love taught the way?

As with a flood of golden light

The first sun tipped earth's golden rim

So all my world grew bright with him

And with his going fell the night —

O God, is there an angel arm

More strong, more tender than the rest?

Lay Thou my baby on his breast

To keep him safe from fear and harm!