THE STRANGER CHILD
Only his soul's voice
Calls the dull roll through;
Good so often long to wait,
Ill so quick to do.
Calls the dull roll through;
Good so often long to wait,
Ill so quick to do.
Only his soul's eyes,
Shamed and tired of all,
Watch the red life ebb and flow,
Watch the last sands fall.
Shamed and tired of all,
Watch the red life ebb and flow,
Watch the last sands fall.
And the little child,
Clinging to the sill,
Weeps and stretches tiny hands,
Weak for good or ill.
Clinging to the sill,
Weeps and stretches tiny hands,
Weak for good or ill.
Slow the dying coal
Drops from out the fire;
Slowly sinks the house of clay,
Empty of desire.
Drops from out the fire;
Slowly sinks the house of clay,
Empty of desire.
Through the creaking blind
Slips the spirit now,
Shudders at the stranger child,
"Thou? my lost youth, thou?"
Slips the spirit now,
Shudders at the stranger child,
"Thou? my lost youth, thou?"
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