CHRISTINA.
5
Oft seeking for a moment but to lose
The bitter consciousness of self, to be
Aught other e'en in thought than that I was.
I took a portion of her innocent life
Within myself; I watched her in her ways,
Unseen I looked upon her in her home,
Her humble home. Yes; I that once had scorned
At lowly poverty and honest love,
I know not if it were its joys or sorrows
I envied most! Her tears were like the dew
That lies all night upon the fruitful field
That Heaven hath blessed, and rises there again.
I was like blasted corn shrunk up and mildewed,
Like sere, dry grass upon the house-tops growing.
Whereof the mower filleth not his arms,
Nor he that bindeth up his sheaves his bosom.
Earth, earth methought and Heaven alike refused me;
None gave me the kind wish, the holy word.
I had no joys, no griefs; yet had I joyed,
Then none had said, "God bless thee!" had I grieved,
Then none that passed had said, "God pity thee!"
The bitter consciousness of self, to be
Aught other e'en in thought than that I was.
I took a portion of her innocent life
Within myself; I watched her in her ways,
Unseen I looked upon her in her home,
Her humble home. Yes; I that once had scorned
At lowly poverty and honest love,
I know not if it were its joys or sorrows
I envied most! Her tears were like the dew
That lies all night upon the fruitful field
That Heaven hath blessed, and rises there again.
I was like blasted corn shrunk up and mildewed,
Like sere, dry grass upon the house-tops growing.
Whereof the mower filleth not his arms,
Nor he that bindeth up his sheaves his bosom.
Earth, earth methought and Heaven alike refused me;
None gave me the kind wish, the holy word.
I had no joys, no griefs; yet had I joyed,
Then none had said, "God bless thee!" had I grieved,
Then none that passed had said, "God pity thee!"
I said, Christina wept. Within her home
There was one only little one, a girl:
Oft had I marked her playing in the sunshine,
Oft by the hearth-light on her father's knee
I watched her (little did Christina think
Who stood without), but she was taken from her,
This child of many prayers and hopes: I saw
The little bier borne forth; this tender flower
There was one only little one, a girl:
Oft had I marked her playing in the sunshine,
Oft by the hearth-light on her father's knee
I watched her (little did Christina think
Who stood without), but she was taken from her,
This child of many prayers and hopes: I saw
The little bier borne forth; this tender flower
