Poems (Freston)/The Promise
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THE PROMISE
Oh, thou who art guarding my baby for me,—
In an unknown land, o'er a mystic sea,—
Bear my treasure over the dangerous tide,
And lay it safely my heart beside.
I shall thank the messenger for such gain,
Though he come to me on the wings of pain;
For with yearning heart at the golden gate,
Of my life's best promise, I wait, I wait.
In an unknown land, o'er a mystic sea,—
Bear my treasure over the dangerous tide,
And lay it safely my heart beside.
I shall thank the messenger for such gain,
Though he come to me on the wings of pain;
For with yearning heart at the golden gate,
Of my life's best promise, I wait, I wait.
I await the promised joy to see,
When a little child shall be given to me;
When, against this yearning mother-breast,
A little head shall nestle and rest;
When out of the highest court of heaven,
A new, white soul to my guidance is given.
So with love and awe at the outer gate,
Of this wonderful hope, I wait, I wait.
When a little child shall be given to me;
When, against this yearning mother-breast,
A little head shall nestle and rest;
When out of the highest court of heaven,
A new, white soul to my guidance is given.
So with love and awe at the outer gate,
Of this wonderful hope, I wait, I wait.
Shall your eyes be dark? or a starlit grey?
Or the blue of my loved one's far away?
Shall your hair be brown? or the ruddy gold
That the rippling waves of your fathers hold?
No matter the color, you're sure to be
The fairest of all on earth to me!
So with eager heart at the golden gate
Of a wonderful hope, I wait, I wait.
Or the blue of my loved one's far away?
Shall your hair be brown? or the ruddy gold
That the rippling waves of your fathers hold?
No matter the color, you're sure to be
The fairest of all on earth to me!
So with eager heart at the golden gate
Of a wonderful hope, I wait, I wait.
Shall a son be given unto my arms,
To meet the clash of the world's alarms?
If so, 'tis well, for he yet shall be.
The honored of all, from sea to sea;
And his strength and power shall bring to his hand,
The fairest gift in his native land!—
So I dream for my man-child, early and late,
While for thee, my baby, I wait, I wait.
To meet the clash of the world's alarms?
If so, 'tis well, for he yet shall be.
The honored of all, from sea to sea;
And his strength and power shall bring to his hand,
The fairest gift in his native land!—
So I dream for my man-child, early and late,
While for thee, my baby, I wait, I wait.
Shall a daughter be given unto my heart,
To nestle within it and never depart?
Shall I find in a girl's young heart all room,
For the birds sweet song and the buds perfume?
The wonderful summer sun's warm light,
And the mystic spell of a starlit night?
Oh, the fairest gift in the hand of fate,
Is a baby girl, so for thee I wait
To nestle within it and never depart?
Shall I find in a girl's young heart all room,
For the birds sweet song and the buds perfume?
The wonderful summer sun's warm light,
And the mystic spell of a starlit night?
Oh, the fairest gift in the hand of fate,
Is a baby girl, so for thee I wait
To set thee above and beyond and apart
From all the world in the mother-heart,
For thee to garner the golden grain,
To guard and guide and to save from pain;
To cherish the hope and the faith supreme
And the tender light of a young maid's dream.
Oh, with shriven heart, at the golden gate
Of this sweetest promise, I wait, I wait!
From all the world in the mother-heart,
For thee to garner the golden grain,
To guard and guide and to save from pain;
To cherish the hope and the faith supreme
And the tender light of a young maid's dream.
Oh, with shriven heart, at the golden gate
Of this sweetest promise, I wait, I wait!