Two Songs
By Nora Hopper
I—Ma Creevin O!
Ma Creevin O, with your breast of snow,Why would you go through the convent door?Why stand apart with a folded heart,Feeding the hungry poor?
Let others kneel and give milk and meal,While the grey hours steal their youth away,What grief have you known that you leave us, lone,Gra, to a sunless day?
Your hands like silk gave meal and milkTo all the ilk of the wandering shee:Stay here and learn how your own fires burnAnd let the grey nuns be.
Kind loves to your door we'll bring galore,And the best love, asthore, that is not kind:No blast shall wither your quicken-treeSo you leave cold saints for the kindly shee,And the nunnery door behind!
