A WALL BETWEEN.
105
Sometimes I hid, and watched his shadow through
Too wistful eyes, as it would pass,
Ghost-like, from off the grass.
Too wistful eyes, as it would pass,
Ghost-like, from off the grass.
Tell him, beneath his roof
I felt I had not where to lay my head,
Yet could not dare the saintly world's reproof,
And withered under my own scorn instead;
Still whispering, "For the children's sake,"
I let my slow heart break.
I felt I had not where to lay my head,
Yet could not dare the saintly world's reproof,
And withered under my own scorn instead;
Still whispering, "For the children's sake,"
I let my slow heart break.
The children? Let them sleep—
To waken motherless. Could I put by
Their arms, and lie like snow, and have them weep,
With my own eyes so empty and so dry?
I've left some pretty things, you see,
To comfort them for me,—
To waken motherless. Could I put by
Their arms, and lie like snow, and have them weep,
With my own eyes so empty and so dry?
I've left some pretty things, you see,
To comfort them for me,—
Sweet dresses, curious toys———
But, after all, what will the baby do?
. . . Hush! Here he is, waked by the wind's wild noise.
Let mother count the dimples, one and two.
Whose baby has the goldenest head
I dreamed once he was dead.
But, after all, what will the baby do?
. . . Hush! Here he is, waked by the wind's wild noise.
Let mother count the dimples, one and two.
Whose baby has the goldenest head
I dreamed once he was dead.
