THE CHARWOMAN
She was grown old in misery and want;
Her threads of life heckled by sordid need,
Stretched taut by lack of love and woven plain
And then by pain and fear worn very thin.
One would not look for prettiness and grace
In such a fabric!
Yet this charwoman,
Dun and bedraggled though she surely seemed,
By a brave miracle of God’s good love,
Is rich and sweet and lovely in my eyes.
Because I met the morning with a smile,
Because I gave a pleasant kindly word,
Which was small gift nut of my happiness,
For this, with inmost gracious courtesy,
She touched her lips one morning to my hand.
And my heart leaped in me to follow her!
BIRTH
This was the blessing of his draught of power,
And this the sudden ripple of her hope,
And the swift current of their great desire,
The eddying wonder of their silent hours,
[79]
